Only
by Luice
Summary: How can Abby pick up the pieces of her life, when almost everyone is dead and gone? A different spin from episode 12 - and a different ending.
1. All dreams around you fading slowly

_**Only**_

_«Cause my dreams are all blind  
They take me back to our time  
And make you be mine only» _

_Sunrise avenue: "Only", from «On the way to wonderland» _

**_All dreams around you fading slowly_**

«So where's Trish?» Henry said angrily, pointing the gun at Jimmy. «She's not anywhere here, it seems like you're lying! What have you done to her? Where is she?!»

Sully had Jimmy at gunpoint too, and Abby was desperately trying to protect him, putting herself in front of him. «No, this is _Jimmy_», she pleaded, looking at Henry, staring straight into his furious, brown eyes.

«He couldn't do anything like this, you know him!» She focused on Henry, thinking that he'd be the most likely to shoot. She took a step towards him, reaching her hands out to him, and she could see his eyes soften, warming to her plea, and he lowered his gun.

BANG!

Her heart in her throat, panic rising, she saw the smoke from Sully's rifle, and she turned around seemingly in slow motion. Jimmy was already on the ground, blood coming through his clothes – his chest an open wound. His eyes – _he was already gone! _She gasped, throwing herself at his corpse, but strong arms caught her, holding her back.

«Abby, no, don't, he's gone, Abby, please» Henry said to her, holding her tight to his chest, sheltering her from the sight of Jimmy's unseeing eyes. Sheltering her, just like he did when they all thought Jimmy blew up on his boat.

But Jimmy, _Jimmy _– this time there was no return from the dead, he was gone, and she had lost him – completely, forever gone. Everything broke down inside her, there was no escape from the torrent inside, and she screamed into Henry's shoulder - screamed her sorrow and despair. He held her tight, stroking her back, and she knew nothing but his comforting hands and her grief.

«Sully, leave!» he said, the command audibly in his voice. «She shouldn't have to face you right now, go back, find Madison and Shea.» She heard his voice, but really nothing registered – it was just a part of the din around her.

«Henry, Henry! I've found a radio!» Trish was shouting, running towards them. «Oh, no!» Sully groaned, «NO, what did I do!? Trish – she's alright! Jimmy - he didn't, I didn't have to – what have I done?»

«Oh my God! Is Jimmy... is he... dead?» Trish's voice was wavering. Abby didn't listen, all that was going through her mind was _NO, no, no, no, please, no, don't let it be true, no... Don't talk about it, no, please, no..._

She felt Henry letting go of her, reaching out to Trish, but she wouldn't let him go, she couldn't stand on her own. So she clutched him to her, legs weak and wobbling, feeling that he was the one solid thing left in her world. «Don't, d-d-d-don't let go of me!» she stuttered, and she felt him grasp her again, holding her up. «Never!», he whispered in her ear, only for her to hear, and he said loud: «Radio? Is it far?»

«No, it's right over here, in a boathouse below the cliff» Trish said, before continuing: «Oh, poor Abby, look at her, what happened? Why is Jimmy... who did this?»

Sully's voice came from down below, as if he was sitting on the ground, sounding hollow and weak: «It's my fault. I did this. I thought he killed you, Trish. I'm, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to...»

«I'll take Abby to the boathouse,» Henry interrupted insistently, «the two of you go back to Shea and Madison. Sully, you can explain to Trish on the way. GO! NOW!».

Abby could hear their voices moving off, growing fainter, and Trish exclaiming a «Oh, no! Oh, Sully, I'm so sorry, Jimmy didn't hurt me..., but I can understand why you...»

Xxx

_Dead – unecessarily so – dead, dead, dead... _

«Can you walk, Abby?» Henry said softly to her, his voice breaking through her stupor.

She tried to think, but couldn't focus at all, so she just shook her head into his shoulder.

«Alright», he answered, lifting her up in his arms. She managed to burrow her face into his chest, afraid that if she lifted her head, she'd see Jimmy's body again. The going was obviously rough, because Henry walked slowly and carefully, but holding her tight at all times.

«I have to let you down to open the door,» he told her quietly, «can you stand for a moment?»

She nodded, feeling him lowering her legs down to the ground. Her feet still wobbly, she clung to him as he opened the door, before he lifted her up again. Inside, he stopped, peering around the room.

«There's a bench of sorts here, Abby, do you want to lie down?» he asked her.

She didn't answer, and he took her lack of reply as an agreement, taking a few steps before putting her down.

«Don't leave me!» she begged, taking hold of his hand, holding him back.

«I won't» he said, «I'm just going to take a look at that radio. I'll be right here, Abby.»

Her mind was almost completely blank, except for the terrifying fact of Jimmy being dead. There was no place for any other thoughts, and she stared at Henry, but not taking in what he was doing. She felt empty, not even crying anymore.

Henry examined the radio, fiddling with it. Taking a quick glance at her, he said: «It seems broken to me, I can't get it to work. Would you like to try?»

She shook her head wordlessly. What did she care for a radio now? She hadn't even seen one since she left Harper's all those years ago, and she'd probably not rememember how to use one. And right now she didn't care for anything – as far as she was concerned, she was as good as dead inside.

Henry sat down beside her, patting her hair. «Maybe we should just stay here, and wait for the others to come back,» he said, stroking her hair soothingly. «Maybe they can get the radio to work.»

She thought of Sully coming back, and suddenly the loss flooded again. Tears started to fall, and she sobbed – the sound was unaturally loud, hoarse and ugly in her own ears.

«Abby, I'm so sorry, I wish I could spare you for this», he whispered, bowing down to her. She threw her arms around him, trying to hide herself from the awful reality by pressing her face into him. He moved over, laying down beside her, enveloping her in his arms.

Xxx

She cried, sobbing loudly into his chest. Her whole body was shaking, and his shirt was sopping wet by her tears. He loved the feeling of her being this close to him, his arms around her as they should be, and her body pressed tight to him.

He told himself he was a pervert, thinking about this when Abby was in such pain, but still the thoughts wouldn't go away. _Abby mustn't notice anything, it would be totally inappropriate, and it would blow his cover before he was ready. _He tried to immerse himself into feeling Abby's pain, but it just didn't work. Henry knew the reason: Jimmy Mance. He simply couldn't make himself feel sad that this bastard had left the earth. And Sully killing Jimmy was perfect – Abby could never blame him for Jimmy's death, even though he would have loved carving up Jimmy's face - his guts – bleeding him like a... No, he had to get a grip on himself! Thinking about intimacy with Abby and killing Jimmy – neither would calm him down, he knew that for sure. But Abby, holding her like this was a taste of what he'd soon have for a lifetime. He breathed in her scent, feeling her hair tickle his nose, and enjoyed the feel of her body as he rubbed her back soothingly. _Oh, how he loved her - .she was perfect. She was the only one - the only one who was real to him. The rest was just shadows – puppets, unreal. He loved her even when she cried for Jimmy Mance. It just showed her as the compassionate woman she was. Shame on him – he wanted the passionate woman more right now than the compassionate one, and that was clearly wrong right now. _

«Henry, do you know?» she croaked, «I've lost almost everything and everyone except you? My parents, my friends, Jimmy, my home... You're the only one left.»

He had to fight his smile, trying to look sad, but inside he was whooping: _That's excactly what he'd wanted her to feel! She already did, and there were still people alive! But, Abby, his perfect Abby, she already realized how things were going to be. _It had never been more difficult to keep himself in check, he wanted to kiss her, telling her how much he loved her. He fought for control, and ended up with a unfulfilling compromise, putting his lips softly to her hair. _A brotherly kiss, _he thought, eyes twinkling with amusement. She stopped, crying, and he froze. _Had he blown his cover? Had she felt that the kiss wasn't suitably chaste, or...? _

xxx

«I want to kill Sully», she heard herself whisper. Henry's eyebrows rose, and he said: «So do I! At least, right now,» he amended, looking somewhat guilty. «But I don't think it's a good idea. Don't you think there's been enough deaths here?»

«I hate him. He destroyed my life», she said. «I don't care. He deserves death. If Wakefield kills him, I'll be overjoyed!» she finished, her voice a fierce, fiery whisper.

«Mmmm, Abby... I don't think you'll want that – you're no killer.» Henry murmured. «You're much too nice and well – kindhearted.»

Her laugh sounded bitter in her own ears: «You're probably right – I couldn't do that. You know me better than I do myself. I just hope someone else will kill Sully for me.»

She felt him draw a sharp breath, and then he exhaled: «People always get what they deserve. I guess Sully's time will come – without you soiling your hands, Abby.»

Xxx


	2. Woke up to fake your smile again

_**Woke up to fake your smile again**_

The door banged open, waking her up. She woke just as tired, brokenhearted, and despairing as before she fell asleep. Still – she felt safe. Empty and sad, but safe.

«He's escaped – Danny's fighting him!» Shea's voice had more than an edge of hysteria. _Oh, she wasn't safe – it was just her imagination. Again. _Abby untangled herself from Henry_ - how on earth had she ended up snuggled so close to him anyway? - _and sat up.

«What? Wakefield is on the loose? How did it happen?» she asked, blinking at Shea.

«He's out? How did it happen?» Henry said simultaneously, sitting up himself, running a hand through his dishevelled hair.

«Someone helped him», Shea told them, «he must have an accomplice. One of us!»

«No, I don't believe that!» Henry said sharply, standing up. He stretched himself a little, and Abby saw that he had sleep marks on his right cheek. Marks from her hair, actually. He must have rested his head to her's while she slept.

«It was Jimmy, I'm sure!» Sully said, entering the boathouse, with Trish on his heels. Abby felt a slow, simmering burn in her stomach, growing steadily stronger by the sight of Jimmy's killer.

«He got the key and gave it to Wakefield, planning to kill us all – it's obvious», he continued, making her anger starting to boil.

«It could just as easily been me», Henry said, «I locked him up».

«Yeah, right,» Sully scoffed, «everything points to Jimmy. The murders in Seattle, knowing his way about the island, not being killed by Wakefield – it all adds up to Jimmy. Thank God he's dead! At least we have «only» one killer to worry about now».

«Ssssh! Think about Abby!», Shea whispered to Sully, nudging him. «Poor girl..!»

But Abby couldn't take it any longer. «It could be yourself, Sully! You killed Jimmy – maybe you killed the rest too?» she shouted, shaking her fist towards Sully. «It makes no sense – why would Jimmy kill Shane, his best friend? Or people he didn't know?»

«He killed strangers in Seattle, or what? Why not here too?» Sully countered. «And it could be YOU, Abby. You're a likely candidate too. Wakefield's daughter, right? Are you helping daddy out, or what?»

Her anger surging, she jumped up from the bench, moving towards Sully.

Henry stepped between them, holding his hands out to separate them.

«This is not helping, shut it, both of you! We don't know who the accomplice is, and it will only further John Wakefield's plans if we suspect each other. Sully, take a look at the radio, see if you can fix it. Hurry!» He turned to her, his face a mix of worry and exasperation, saying: «Abby... Please, I know what you're going through, but don't make this any easier for John Wakefield, will you?»

She backed down, seating herself on the bench again. _Oh, Jimmy... _She was so angry with Sully, but she'd have to bury her rage until they were safe. Hugging herself with her arms as if to contain her grief and anger inside, she looked up at Henry and said: «You're right. I' ll...shut up. For now.»

He sighed, and sympathy and relief flashed over his face. Stepping towards her, looking like he intended to hug her, his arms fell and he turned around when Trish said his name questioningly. «Henry..?»

Abby saw them hug each other hard. «There you are! Are you alright, Trish?»

«Yeah,» Trish said, «I am. Don't separate us again, Henry, it's so awful to be apart when we are in danger. I worried so much! After we met Shea and Madison on the way - oh, Henry, think about Danny....»

«Oh, Trish, we didn't know Wakefield was freed, we'll stick together from now on», he murmured to her, kissing her.

Abby watched them, tears burning in her eyes. That could have been her and Jimmy. He'd comfort her, stay with her, just like Henry did for Trish. And she'd take care of Jimmy, like Trish did for Henry. Thanks to Sully, this would never happen. She laid down, trying to shut out the world again, like she'd almost managed when Henry held her. It didn't work.

«This radio need batteries», Sully said. "The batteries are removed, but otherwise it should work. What about Danny - shouldn't we help him?»

«Don't go after Danny - either he's fine - or he's not..." Henry said. "Getting off the island has to be our priority number one now, even before finding Danny. There might be some batteries at the Candlewick. Trish, why don't we go there and have a look? The rest of you stay here, keep Madison safe. Keep together at all costs!»

xxx

_What kept his Dad? How much resistance could Trish put up? _He paced the agreed spot in the woods restlessly. Every delay was more time away from Abby. He prayed Shea and Madison could keep both Abby and Sully in check. _Where WAS his Dad? _

He was so glad his father had agreed to kill Trish. He loved her, but always as a pale shadow of his love for Abby. Like watching a candle compared to a volcanic eruption. He'd hate to kill her himself, that would be both painful and hard for him. Then again, she always interrupted when he wanted to be with Abby, just like in the boathouse recently. And what she said - not wanting to be separated from him for the rest of their time on the island – it was plainly ridiculuos. This was the perfect moment to finish Trish, before she got even more in his way. Still, her being dead was just...sad. But then his mouth quirked by the thought that they had had the chance to say «goodbye» in a fitting manner alone at the cabin. _He'd miss Trish, at least until Abby came round to loving him. Oh well, this had to happen..._

«Henry! Oh my God, Henry!»

_Damn! _Trish was running towards him, stumbling a little in her wedding dress, looking scared, but relieved to see him. She looked so beautiful, too. _Damn! He'd have to do it himself. He could bet his dad had failed on purpose – this was a part of the «kill everyone you love»-philosophy. His father had planned for this, he was sure! Poor Trish, she deserved the truth before she died, at least he could give her that. _He sighed – there was work to do.

xxx

Henry stumbled in through the door, panting desperately.

«I lost Trish – in the woods – Wakefield – I heard her scream – we've got to go... Where's the rest? Damn it, Sully, where's Abby? Shea, Madison...?» He looked around the boathouse, panic rising inside.

Sully shifted, looking guilty. «Abby left. She wanted to have a look at Jimmy. I put Shea and Madison on the boat that was hanging from the rafters. It's big enough for the two of them, and I just don't think it's right that the little kid should be here any longer than necessary. They should be able to make it to the mainland by themselves. Did you find Danny?»

«You let Abby leave?! Alone? Are you mad – Sully, it's _Wakefield _out there! And no, we didn't see Danny, we met Wakefield!»

«Oh no, Danny - then he is..?» Sully whispered horrified.

«I'm afraid so. At least, it's more than likely. But Abby - you let her go off alone?»

«It's not like she would listen to _me_, Henry, and Jimmy is only a few hundred meters from here.»

«What do you think Wakefield can make out of a few hundred meters? Like he'll care if you're two meters away! We got to find her, now, immediately!»

He felt just as desperately worried as he had pretended to be for Trish._ Damn – Wakefield had broken the deal on Trish – it would take very little encouragment and opportunity for him to break the deal on Abby. _

«What about Trish? Shouldn't we find her first – we know she's in danger! Abby might be just fine. Even with Wakefield out there», Sully muttered the last words. «What about the batteries - did you find any?»

«Yes, yes,» Henry answered impatiently. «Here they are. Fix the radio - contact the Coast guard - I'll go outside to check on Abby.»

«Here – take the rifle – I see you've lost yours», Sully said with a concerned look.

«Thanks – I gave mine to Trish», he lied easily.

He ran to where Jimmy's corpse should be, but neither Abby nor Jimmy's body were present. _Oh God, what had his Dad done? Where was Abby? _

He ran back to the boathouse, stopping outside only to remove the shells from the gun.

«Sully! She's not there, we've got to go find Trish and Abby!»

«Alright, the coast guard will be here in two hours», Sully said, grabbing the rifle from Henry's hands as he passed him on the way to the door.

_He had no time to spare – he had to find Abby. He suspected his Dad had something spectacular planned for her – but he fervently prayed that she wasn't captured yet. Probably not, he tried to reassure himself. His Dad wouldn't have had the time after seeing Henry in the woods – would he? _

_Right. More work to be done. He'd take care of Sully on the way – but this time, he would at least enjoy himself. _He smiled, eyes cold on Sully's back.


	3. The rough play zone

_**The rough play zone**_

She had kicked, punched, tried to scream, but to no avail. In seconds she was gagged and bound, hands behind her back, and John Wakefield gazed impassionately at her, before he kicked her in the back, obviously to get her moving.

She stumbled forward, afraid of what would happen if she resisted – and even more scared by the thought of what would happen _anyway _– no matter what she did. _I need a miracle, _she thought, while inwardly screaming by the slithering sound Jimmy's body made on the forest ground as Wakefield dragged him along. He steered her with kicks and punched, dragging her up roughly when she fell.

_Oh no, we're not going there? Why? This can't bode well - he probably had something particularly grizzly in store, and she was mortally afraid for Henry, Trish, Shea, Madison – even Sully. _

Xxx

Henry stared at Sully's corpse. _This was disturbing. It was so much more fun killing Sully than he'd anticipated – he'd really enjoyed himself, taunting Sully, scaring him, before attacking. _

Sully didn't even have a chance – he was truly shellshocked, and hadn't been able to defend himself. But there was absolutely no time to dawdle – Abby was in great danger – somewhere on the island. _But where? Knowing his Dad, the possibility was he'd stuck with their original stage for the final showdown._ Henry ran.

Xxx

He stopped outside, placing the shells in the gun again. There was no one left on the island he wanted to kill, but he'd do whatever he had to. Entering, Henry found that his Dad still could shock and overwhelm him – he almost couldn't take in the scene in front of him. Then «Here comes the Bride» blared to life from the speakers, and jumping in shock, Henry came out of his daze.

His father had lit candles along the nave and all over the floor around the altar. In front, on the chairs usually reserved for the happy couple, he'd propped up the corpses of Trish and Jimmy, their dead eyes staring vacantly at each other. Trish still in her wedding dress, and flowers – _flowers _- placed in her hands. The effect was truly horrifying. His father had surely outdid himself – even when counting in the Tree of Woe.

And on the altar – _oh God – _Abby was bent backwards over the altar, her eyes searching for his, frantic and panicstricken. She was bound, her arms wrenched and hanging down behind her , and a gag was stuffed in her mouth. _Oh God – but she was at least still alive. But what had his Dad told her? _From the elaborate scene in front of him, he understood that his father never would let her go.

«Enter the groom!» his father sneered, coming out from the shadows behind the altar.

«Come for his wedding, finally. Kept your dead bride waiting, did you, Henry _Dunn_?» The inflection on Henry's last name was scathing, and he found himself staring at his Dad, not understanding what he was playing at.

«Come to finally see your _best friend_ being the evening's first sacrifice, before it's your turn?» His mouth still hanging open, Henry caught on. _Of course, all this was staged to scare the hell out of Abby. His father probably wanted her to be mortally afraid for Henry's life, before Henry revealed himself as Wakefield's son, scaring her even more. This – this had possibilities. It meant that Abby didn't know yet... _

He walked slowly up the isle towards the altar, Abby's eyes big with fear and desperation. She tried to shake her head at him, whimpering behind her gag, and he understood: She wanted him to run away, to save himself. _How he loved her – she was wonderful, putting her life in front of his... Now he only had to save her. _

The swishing sound of the boarding knife stopped him short, and the sight of his father bending the tip of the big knife down to Abby's throat made his blood freeze. _No! Was he already going to...?_

«You look so much like Sarah», his Dad murmured, ripping her clothes open with the knife, baring her chest. Henry could see Abby panting hard, her chest heaving, and Wakefield leaned over her, _ogling her, _he thought in outrage.

Henry clenched the gun until his knuckles whitened, his rage almost boiling over at the indignity she was being subjected to. _His beautiful, innocent Abby_!

His Dad proceeded to tear open her pants with the knife, leaving her almost naked on the altar. The insult was too much for him, he could see the tears and horror in Abby's eyes, and he knew that his expression mirrored her shock. He was standing still, but his control was almost shattered.

His dad lifted his eyes from Abby's body – _the damned, despicable pervert_ – and stroked the edge of the boarding knife lovingly against Abby's breasts.

«Henry _Dunn,_ you do as I say, or else Abby Mills will be history right now. Let go of the gun, slowly», he said gratingly.

Henry desteted the way his father pronounced his name – and hated him for using it to reassure Henry of his good intentions. As long as the good intentions didn't extend to Abby, Henry couldn't feel any relief at all. But he lowered the gun slowly, putting it down, holding his hands up behind his head.

Xxx

Abby's whimper was even more frantic, her eyes telling him to run for his life. _Henry, no, save yourself! _she thought, scared almost witless by the thought of having to watch him die. _Oh God, he won't run, he'll try to play the gentleman, just like Cal, no, Henry! _She tried to convey all this by her eyes, and her heart sank when she realized that he understood – and that he wouldn't leave her like this.

Wakefield strode towards Henry, putting the boarding knife to his back, and pushed him roughly towards the altar. He stopped directly in front of her, looking down in her eyes. She could see that he was scared – but she could also see a fair amount of determination in his eyes. _He hadn't given up! But – there wasn't any chances left, she knew that, this was it. They'd both die. _

Xxx

«Take a good look at her. Isn't she beautiful?»

His head almost whipped around, hearing his Dad saying that. _What? Had he finally come around? No, this was a part of the trap – it had to be. _

His Dad stretched out his hand, pressing down on Abby's throat, making it hard for her to breathe. «I'll love to feel my blade sliding inside her, hearing her gasp and sigh», he continued, leering at her.

_What the hell? Was he threatening Abby with rape? This was way over the line, and he could see her eyes widen in shock. He had to end this, quickly. _Feeling the pressure of the boarding knife lessen against his back, he lowered his hands, inching his right hand to his back pocket. He knew his Dad wouldn't care to keep up the charade for much longer – after all, how could he possibly scare Abby even more? _Oh yes, by telling her everything. _

«So, Abby, it's time for the ugly tru... ughh!» Wakefield grunted, as Henry's pocket knife slit his throat. Spinning around, he got a perfect aim at his father, and finished up the job by stabbing him in the heart. The throat was mainly to make sure he didn't say another word – a mere technicality, so to speak.

Wakefield's body twitched, and he slowly buckled and fell towards Abby. Terrified, Henry saw that the boarding knife would become lodged between them, possibly hurting her, and he lunged forward, just managing to wrestle the knife in another direction.

Rudely showing Wakefield's corpse away , he gathered Abby up in his arms. In the process, his Dad's body knocked over several of the candles, and the carpet on the floor caught fire. The flames spread rapidly, but Henry was busy cutting away Abby's gag.

«Oh, Henry!» she gasped when he had removed the gag, «I thought this was it! I was so scared, and when you showed up, I was sure he'd kill you too!»

«I thought so too,» he panted, «I was desperate, thinking he'd kill you!»

He lifted her up, running out of the church, not taking the time to remove her ties on her hands or her legs. The church was almost completely aflame, and coughing they emerged into the yard.

Carefully he slid her down along his body, leaning her against a tree. He was painfully aware that she was naked. Holding her naked in his arms was after all what he had dreamt of for years. But he'd never thought that the chance to do so would present itself in such an unlikely manner.

Xxx

The adrenaline rush was violent, she felt almost giddy with relief. As Henry put her down against the tree, she realized that she was completely naked, and that he was acutely aware of the fact.

In his eyes, she saw a brief glimpse of something dark and longing, before he closed them. She noted he found the oddest way to untie her hands, holding her tight, while sliding his arms around her back. Pressing her into his body, he cut the rope away with his pocket knife. _Almost as if he wanted to touch her as much as possible? No, she had to be wrong. Clearly, she wasn't as level-headed as she usually was. _Releasing his hold, he knelt, eyes thankfully still closed, and freed her legs too.

He rose, and took of his brown sweater, giving it to her.

«Here, take this. You must be cold», he said.

Gratefully, she put in on, saying «Thanks» in a small voice.

Looking back at the burning church, all the adrenaline rush disappeared in an instant. _Oh, God, Jimmy's body was in there – Trish's too, but, oh, Jimmy... _

She broke down, crying again, and he hugged her, whispering soothing words in her hair. Slowly, he turned her around, leading her through the woods towards the marina.

Xxx

«Oh my God, Henry, is that Sully? Is he dead too?» Her whisper was low and horrified, and he squeezed her shoulder.

«Yeah. I did this – he tried to attack me, Abby, it must have been him.» He'd decided that the only way he could get away with it was to shoulder the blame for this death himself. It was unlikely that Wakefield would have had the time, besides it was the small matter of the Coast Guard knowing that he'd been with Sully – and at the same time Wakefield would have been busy with Abby.

«What, no? _Sully? _Oh, God, and he killed Jimmy right in front of us – the bastard!» she suddenly shouted, running towards Sullys body and kicking it violently. He was so surprised and shocked by her reaction, that he barely managed to take hold of her, dragging her away. She turned in his arms, locking her eyes to his, and said fiercely: «Thank you, Henry. Thank you for killing him!» He was pleased to no end by her words.

Xxx

She smelt so good, sitting in his arms at the railing. He couldn't understand how she could smell so good after the week they had on the island. He knew that he didn't smell nearly so good himself, and he had stepped into the shower with Trish only this morning. But killing people was hard work, that's what his Dad had used to tell him. Today, he had killed - he ticked them off mentally on his fingers - Trish, Sully, Dad… There were so many off them now, it was actually hard to remember. Especially when he could hold Abby so close to him. He decided that he would keep her as close as she would allow for as long as she would allow it. This was a good chance to ingrain a habit of intimacy.

He didn't mind leaving his play zone, because he knew they'd be back at Harper's in a matter of days or weeks.


	4. The Hero of Harper's

_**The Hero of Harper's **_

She' d never slept less in a night. Abby was absolutely sure that she hadn't closed her eyes for a second, instead reliving the whole, nightmarish week with open eyes. Her consciousness had paid special attention to her father's death (only natural), Jimmy's (very understandable), and oddly Mr. Wellington's (the drama effect, she thought). JD kept cropping up too, with Henry standing above her, crying with bloody hands. And at last, the terror in the church. So, she wasn't surprised by her lack of sleep at all.

Hunger was the last thing on her mind, but she really needed a strong cup of coffee or three to face the day – and the police. To get her coffee, she went down to breakfast at the hotel. That was probably the stupidest thing she'd ever done – the media was swarming the place.

«Ms. Mills, Ms. Mills – how did you survive _the_ _Horror at Harper's? _How do you cope with the tragic experience of having both your father and mother being hanged by the same man? How do you feel by the fact that your lover Jimmy Mance was brutally murdered in front of you? What do you need to give us your story exclusively? What can you tell us about the other survivors?»

She squinted into the cameras, the flashing lights blinding her, and a serious-looking, well-dressed tv-reporter took hold of her arm, and said: «Directly in, I'm standing here with a survivor of _the horror of Harper's – _Abby Mills, who have met with such tragedy yet again during her brief stay at the Island. Now, Abby, tell the viewers how you survived!»

Abby stammered, completely flustered and unprepared for the situation. «I, I, I guess, I, I was just... lucky, that... Wakefield didn't get...me..too. That was thanks to...Henry...» The reporter latched on immediately, and shouted excitedly: «Yes, Mr. Henry Dunn, the tragic hero of Harper's – the groom! Tell us, you two have been friends since childhood. Will he be able to go on without his lovely bride, or do you think he'll face the same mental _problems _as his younger brother JD did?» Abby gaped at the reporter, and tried to wrench her arm free, only to be grabbed by another journalist pushing her towards a photographer. «What can you tell us about _the Hero of Harper's_? How did the two of you survive?» the journalist shouted in her ear. Frantic, she pulled loose and ran. She ran straight to Henry's room, banging at the door wildly. He opened, took a quick look at her and ushered her inside.

Xxx

Abby's face was tear streaked, she was panting and in a right state of panic, as far as he could tell. He grabbed hold of her arms, trying to look in her eyes, but she threw herself into his chest and clung to him. Only, she stepped back after a few seconds when she registered that he was wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. «I'm sorry,» she gasped and tried to turn away, «I can come back later».

«No, no, no need – I've finished my shower» he said worriedly, keeping his hold on her arms, «what's wrong, Abby?» _Oh, but it felt good to have her so close to his bare skin. Then again, maybe much too good for the current state of him not being dressed. _

She told him about the media attacking her, and he had a hard time holding his face still when he heard himself being dubbed the «Hero of Harper's».

«Abby, it's going to be like this for the next weeks, maybe months», he said patiently, «but it will wear out. I guess Shea has a media spokesman for her and Madison managing their side. Maybe you should get one too?»

«A spokesman? Like a publicist?», Abby said uncertainly. «I don't think I can afford that, Henry, it sounds very expensive.»

«So they are,» he said, wanting to pull her closer again, but contending himself by stroking her arms.

«But», he paused as if the idea just struck him, «if you don't mind, you could use mine? I'm going to use one from my company, he's good. No costs, of course – and I don't want you to feel uncomfortable about that!»

With the immense relief showing on her face, he knew what her answer was_._ For the next few days, his main objective was to arrange and manage every practical little detail for her, making sure she knew he'd take care of everything for her.

_Haha, __the hero of Harper's – he didn't care what the media called him, as long as it wasn't the truth - «the junior killer», «the apprentice murderer» or something like that. But he really wanted to be the hero in her eyes._

Xxx

The police asked her endless questions again, again and again. She truly hated it, even though she knew they had to. As if her not being able to sleep wasn't enough - _how long since she last slept on the island? she just couldn't remember_ - , she had to relive her own, personal hell with the officers over and over.

In the evening she locked herself into the hotel room, sitting listlessly on the bed watching TV. She avoided the news channels, knowing that the survivors and the murders were the main news. After an hour or so, someone knocked on the door. Sighing , she walked over and checked who it was through the spyhole.

Opening the door, she let Henry inside. He had a bag of chips with him, and said: «I figured you'd be in here. So I brought chips. You haven't eaten anything, have you?»

«No», she admitted, «I didn't feel like it.»

He walked over to the bed and sat down, opening the bag. «Here», he said, offering her the chips.

Abby sat down beside him, seeing that he'd brought her favorite brand and taste. She couldn't resist, and ate a few. Suddenly realizing her hunger, she munched the chips ravenously. He smiled, watching her eat the whole bag.

After a while, she told him: «I can't sleep. I'm so tired, but I just can't sleep. I don't feel safe at all.»

«Oh Abby, that's no wonder after all you've been through», he said, putting his arm around her shoulder. «It would have been weird if you slept like a baby!»

She leaned into him, relaxing a little.

Xxx

After a while, he saw that she had fallen asleep. A smile played on his lips, as he watched her. He liked to think that it was his presence that made her feel safe enough to sleep.

As for himself, he didn't sleep to well either. He kept waking up, dreaming that he had killed his Dad, and then the boarding knife fell from Wakefield's hands, piercing Abby's heart. This dream had woken him up several times during the night. He also woke when he dreamt of JD – remembering the shocked expression in his eyes when Henry had pulled out the knife and stabbed him. He'd never forget the faint question of _«Why?»_ leaving JD's lips, the bubbles of blood following after. He'd felt compelled to answer, whispering «It's all about Abby. You know I love her» to his brother. The whole situation had been a nightmare, because JD was supposed to be transported safely to the mainland by the police, not being killed.

But now, he felt content and happy with everything he had done – including killing JD - as he gazed down on Abby sleeping in his lap. He switched channels, zapping through all the news stories about Harper's. Most of them included some reference to him being the hero, saving Abby and himself from Wakefield. Henry watched with fascination, almost not believing that _he _had done all this, albeit with help from his Dad. _The Hero Harper's indeed. _

Xxx

«How long did I sleep?», Abby said, blinking a bit owlishly at the light. She stretched herself, feeling more rested than she had in days.

«Four hours or so», he said, smiling down at her.

«Mmm, a luxury, then. But you look tired yourself. Do you sleep at night, Henry?»

«No, not very well», he admitted.

«Hmm, you should have slept yourself, not watching... Why _are _you watching _that_? Please turn it off, I don't want to see it!» She looked accusingly at him, averting her eyes from the TV.

He switched it off with a guilty look on his face. «I wanted to know what they're saying. About us, you know.»

«Well, I don't», she huffed. «It's enough having to think about it all the time by myself, I couldn't care less what all the others think!»

«Yeah, I know. I'm a little curious, though,» he said, stroking her hair. He rose from the bed, saying: «It's about time I try to sleep too, it's late.» Leaning down to her, he gave her a hug, whispering «Good night».

She got the distinct impression that he really didn't want to leave, but she couldn't point out to herself just what he did that made her think so. As he left her room, she realized that she didn't want him to leave either. The shadows in the corners seemed to grow, and all her fears and the loneliness came crashing back.

Xxx

Shea's clothes were mismatched and crumpled. In a way Abby had always imagined Shea to be one of those people who woke up with perfect makeup and clean clothes. But she had clearly taken a turn for the worse after the island.

«Oh, how are you? And Madison?», she said, hugging her. Shea clung to her, tears in her eyes, saying nothing. Abby released her, and Shea turned to fall sobbing into Henry's arms. He patted her back, holding her to him, but Abby saw that he was slightly uncomfortable. _They'd never been that close, _she thought.

«I'm sorry, I don't cry all the time,» Shea sniffled, «I must be strong for Madison, you know, but seeing the two of you... And think about next week, what the police wants us to do! I don't think I can cope with that, I don't want to go back.»

«I know», Henry said with a serious look, «It'll be hard. But we have to do it. It's all so confusing to me, so there's no wonder that the police wants to go over the place with us. Timelines and events, you know, where it actually happened. With the media focus and everything, they can't be seen doing sloppy work.»

«It's going to take more time than you think, and it's my fault». Shea's eyes was downcast, avoiding to look at them.

«Why? More time?» Abby said, feeling worried. «I don't want to spend another minute there more than I have too!»

«It's because of Madison. I won't let them take her back, and I don't want to leave her alone, at least not in the night. So me going there and back every day will cut the reconstruction short by several hours every day. I'm sorry, but this is the way it has to be. The police accepted it after some pressure from my lawyers.»

_No. No. She'd have to spend at least another week on Harper's Island. Oh, bloody hell! _

**_A/N: _**This one's for Master Jasper's Servant, who was very, very close to guessing the title of this chapter! :D


	5. The fact that I'm afraid of everything

_**The fact that I'm afraid of everything**_

Days passed, filled with more police interrogations – gradually with a more relaxed tone. There was obviously no reason to suspect any of the survivors, but still the media pressure didn't drop. Photographers lurked around every corner.

Abby was tired to her bones each night, but still she couldn't sleep. In the mirror she saw herself being thin and ghostly pale. She had horrible, waking visions where Wakefield paraded Jimmy, her friends and her father in front of her, before killing them in the most gruesome ways. Pacing the confines of her hotel room for hours to shake it off, she could find no comfort, knowing that their deaths had been just as awful as in her feverish imagination.

The only sleep she got, was in the evening. Henry made a habit of visiting her room, and sat there with her as she slept, just like their second evening on the mainland.

"You'll probably want to do something else in the evenings than watching me sleep. It's been almost a week now..."

"No. No, it's OK, don't think about it. I think it's relaxing, just being with you and doing literally nothing," he said, laughing. "Besides, I watch TV or work. I'd do that anyway. And," - his laughter died, and he looked serious - "it's good to be with you, not being alone."

She sighed, saying: "Yeah. I feel that way too. I hate being alone now, I'm so... afraid. All I do is think, and worrying about next week, when we have to go back." _And she truly dreaded going to Harper's Island again, the fact was hanging over her like a black, icy shadow. _

Xxx

They had daily meetings with their publicist, Bill Smith. _Publicist – a funny word, _Abby thought. _After all, they didn't want publicity, just peace and quiet. _Bill was a short, balding man in his early thirties, and she noted with amusement that he liked Henry a lot more than Henry seemed to realize. This wasn't the first time she'd seen _that_.

"The pressure is increasing, and it will continue until one of you – preferably both of you – do at least one all-out interview. It'll be no problem to get you on TV, they're practically sending me gifts to get one of you exclusively. I've spoken to Mrs. Allen's publicist again, and they're still adamant. She won't come out because of Madison. It'll have to be the two of you", he said apologetically, only glancing briefly at her.

"No", she said, "I really don't want to. You saw the clip from when they ambushed me in the breakfast lounge, I just can't do TV, I sound like an idiot." She felt like a coward, looking pleadingly at Henry.

He sighed, and gripped her hand. Bill the publicist started rifling through his papers, staring a little annoyed at Abby.

"OK, I'll do it. But just once. You better make it national TV, Bill. I won't do it again. Ever." Henry answered, looking extremely strict and businesslike as he met Bill's eyes. She almost had to laugh – maybe Henry had noticed more than she thought?

Xxx

They had to claim the bodies of their loved ones – and make a formal ID of one not-so-loved.

"After you've seen them, the bodies will be released Wednesday next week, so you can start making arrangements for the funerals," the police officer said, looking at them with warmth and sympathy in her eyes.

The task of identifying Wakefield was quickly done, and the officer left them alone. But Henry stood still, looking at his Dad for a long time. "Come on Henry, it's truly over," Abby said to him, "you saved us. Don't blame yourself for killing him!"

He shot an incredulous glance at her, and started laughing. Abby looked uncomfortable, it was clear she thought it wrong to laugh like that over a dead body, even his _Dad__'__s_ corpse, but Henry couldn't stop. _After all, a body was just a body, and he knew his Dad wouldn__'__t mind being laughed at anymore. _

After a very long minute he sobered. _Here you go, scaring Abby. Damage control now! _He had to wipe his eyes, and answered her truthfully: "I'm sorry, Abby, I just lost it. I don't know what came over me, laughing like that in front of you. But I'm not exactly _blaming_ myself for killing him."

He squeezed her shoulder in a reassuring way, but she seemed uneasy still.

Xxx

Thank God he didn't laugh at the other bodies. But then again, she found that she was able to excuse him. It was probably natural to freak out standing over the body of a serial killer that you had killed with your own hands.

As she stared at her father's body, she tried to remember his life, not his death. That is - his life before the first rampage. _It __was so long ago!_ Henry stood behind her, enfolding her in his arms again. She leaned back into him, silently crying for her father and the lost years.

Then it was Trish. This time, she tried to comfort both Henry and Shea. Shea had just seen her father's body, and when they brought out Trish she broke down completely, leaving the room quickly with deep, racking sobs tearing through her body. Abby stared after her, tears in her own eyes, before turning back to Henry. He didn't cry though, just gazed at the burned remains of the body that was supposed to be his living, loving wife. Suddenly Abby remembered the start of the scavenger hunt, when they were all gathered at the Candlewick Inn.

_Trish was missing, and Henry was to her eyes a little upset. Not that anyone else may have noticed, but he was. Then Trish ran out on the porch, and Henry embraced her, clearly relieved, before saying to the group: _

"_I__'__m sure you all remember my beautiful, but late bride to be.__"_

Abby gasped by the thought - _how horrible, I hope he has forgotten that pun! _

Feeling her shudder, he threw his arms around her, holding her tight. _Strange, _Abby mused, _it__'__s almost as if he__'__s trying to comfort me rather than seeking comfort for himself. _But she corrected herself quickly: _Oh, poor Henry, he's trying so hard! This must be awful for him._

After a while he asked: "Will you come with me to see JD?"

This time he did cry, almost clinging to her.

"You were so close to the killer, Abby, what if you had seen him? What if I had seen... Maybe none of us would be here now! Seeing JD dead is one of the worst things I've had to do. My little brother…"

She tried to encompass him in her arms, and stood on the tips of her toes to kiss him on the cheek, trying her best to calm and comfort him. He quieted, and Abby felt him hide his face into her hair.

Xxx

He was freakishly nervous, clutching Abby's hand. She had followed him to the TV studio, and would be waiting in the back while he was on. _Damn, Bill had done his best to prepare him, but Bill didn't know the truth. How could anyone prepare him for lying to an entire nation on TV? What if he slipped up? _

"You'll be great, Henry" she said, stroking his arm. "Don't worry, just be yourself, like Bill said."

He felt like laughing hysterically. _Be himself? Yeah, that would work out wonderfully – sending him to Death Row before the show was over!_

"Seriously, look at me" she said, smiling at him. "I know you'll be just fine. I believe in you!"

She hugged him, putting her arms around his neck, dragging his head down to her shoulder. Suddenly, he felt like he was on top of the world. _She believed in him! It would be a piece of cake to convince the rest of the world, then. _

Xxx

Again, she was on the boat to Harper's Island even though it was the last thing in the world she wanted. The task seemed impossible – to go over everything with the police again _on the island for days. _Besides, there was the matter of arranging her father's funeral. The new reverend was obviously a very busy man – no wonder, perhaps – but the only appointment she had gotten was Sunday afternoon. So here they were on the boat, on Saturday morning – two days earlier than she'd expected.

_Damn Shea, she just couldn't understand why it was better to drag out the police business like that. More than a week instead of getting it all done in three days? All because of Madison? _She felt really ashamed of herself for thinking like that, knowing that she'd probably have done the same thing if she had a child.

As she stood watching the waves, Henry stood behind her, with his arms holding the railing on each side of her. She felt safe by his close presence, relaxing against his chest.

"Do you", she hesitated, "Do you really mean what you said about Sully on TV?" She felt him leaning down, brushing his face to her hair.

"Mmm, yeah – in a way. It's true, I can't really believe Sully would do something like that. I'd like to think he just... snapped, losing it after killing Jimmy. But the evidence points to him, though."

She winced when he brought up Jimmy's death, and answered: "I think he did it. I'm sure. You would never have killed Jimmy like that – but he did! I hate Sully, and I'm still glad you killed him."

Turning in his arms, she asked: "Does that make me an awful person, Henry?"

He stared at her with an odd look in his eyes, before shaking his head. "No, I don't think so. You're not a bad person, Abby. I am – I'm the one who killed him."

"No, no – you're not!" She hugged him tight, feeling bad that she had reminded him that he'd killed his best friend.

Xxx

The boat was unfamiliar to Henry, in all his summers working at the marina at Harper's he had never seen it. He would have loved to explore it, but keeping close to Abby took priority, of course.

As they left the boat at the remains of the docks on the island, one of the crew bumped into him. The man scowled at him, muttering something which sounded like "damned landlubbers, can't keep to their feet".

Henry felt rage explode in himself, and his hands twitched as he saw a suitable boat hook nearby. _Landlubber, eh? He would make him eat those words when his head cracked open… _His thought were interrupted by Abby, she was pulling his hand. "Come on Henry, we're here," she said, looking anxiously at him. "Are you alright?"

Henry loosened his jaw, he'd clamped his teeth shut, and tried to smooth his face. _You can't kill him in front of Abby! He'd have to work on his temper, this wouldn't do at all. Not in front of everyone! No, he had to get a grip on himself - no more killing for a long time. _

"I'm just not looking forward to this, Abby", he sighed as he stepped down on the dock. And truth to tell, what did he care for arranging the funeral of one of his own victims?

«But Henry, where are we going to stay?» she asked, looking confused as she stood beside her suitcase on the docks.

He grinned inwardly. _See? She already trusts you to take care of everything! _

«Actually, I bought a house. For my... honeymoon», he said, staring straight ahead as if this was difficult to tell her. Glancing at her from the side, he saw that her eyes filled with tears.

«Oh, I, I didn't know – no Henry, this must be difficult for you. So hard, going there like this, without...» she trailed off.

«No, I'd like us to stay there», he said slowly. «I'm glad you're coming with me. I'd hate to come there all alone. The house was a surprise for Trish, she never knew anything about it, and I don't want to stay at the Candlewick or anywhere else – it would just remind me of everything.»

_And you, _he thought,_ you need someplace new on the island. Besides, I bought it for us anyways, not for Trish. It's for our honeymoon, Abby! _He fervently hoped that she'd like it.

Xxx

The house was magnificent, she thought.

«Henry, what a view!» she exclaimed. He seemed to be proud of the house, giving her a tour of it, and he was obviously pleased by her enthusiasm.

«There's lots of food here, and wine too», he shouted to her, while rummaging through a storage room. «I stocked it up just before everything started to happen». Abby felt so sorry for him again. He had to be trying so hard to be brave, taking her to the house where he had hoped to spend his honeymoon. So she told him what she thought over dinner, and there it was again - that fleeting, odd look in his eyes that she didn't really understand.

Xxx

After dinner, they relaxed in the sofa drinking more wine, watching the scenery. But he could see she was sleepy, and nudged her:

"Hey, you haven't had your afternoon nap. Are you falling asleep right here on the couch?"

"Mmm, yeah, almost. This is so lovely and peaceful – being cooped up in the hotel room drove me crazy", she said, nestling her head into his shoulder.

Minutes later, he could tell she was sleeping. _Should he do it? It was about time, wasn't it? _Having decided, he lifted her up and carried her to his bedroom. She only murmured a little, cuddling into him, and he smiled before putting her down on the bed. He undressed her carefully and gently, but let her keep her underwear and t-shirt. Stripping down himself, he pulled her into his arms, knowing that he'd finally get a good night's sleep.

Xxx

She woke up, feeling completely rested. Smiling, she opened her eyes, enjoying the warmth of him at her back. She had known the moment she woke that he was there – _how else would she have slept through the entire night? _She crept quietly out of bed, careful not to wake him up, making her way down to the kitchen. Coffee seemed like a good idea right now.

Xxx

_He could smell coffee._ Stretching, he could feel that the bed was still warm after her body, and he drew in her scent from the pillow. Plodding happily down the stairs, he found her sitting at the kitchen table. Seeing him, she smiled and asked: "Coffee? I made it extra strong, just for you."

Henry stopped, feeling a sharp, piercing joy at this everyday exchange. _This was perfect: Waking up in their bed, knowing that she'd be downstairs, seeing her greet him with a smile, and her doing him a little favor like making coffee the way he liked it. This was for forever – and he felt happier than he could remember. _He swallowed, feeling tears in his eyes.

"Oh Henry, you miss her, don't you?", she asked, sympathy coating her voice. She moved towards him, hugging him. _Except for her words, the morning had just gotten even better. As she held him, he let himself pretend for a moment that she already was completely his, not still having the delusion of being his best friend. Soon. But she'd sleep in his bed from now on, he was sure. _


	6. The lie you live is all they really want

_**The lie you live is all they really want**_

He just detested the sight of his own blood. Strange, when he'd killed so many people, still he felt slightly sick by the sight of his blood. Nicking himself while shaving, how clumsy was that? He who could carve up a human being with almost surgical precision! Henry sighed, pressing the edges of the little wound together, hoping the bleeding would stop quickly.

Abby had been so sad and quiet yesterday, after meeting the new reverend and discussing her father's funeral. The reverend had also reminded her that she needed to take care of her father's things: The house, all his possessions, finances and everything. Remembering how she'd blanched by this obviously forgotten task, Henry couldn't help feeling angry at the reverend for making her feel that way. Still, it meant she would have to be on the island for a longer period of time, and everything that kept her here was fine by him.

He cheered up even more when he thought of waking up with her for the second morning in a row. At bedtime, she hadn't even questioned them sleeping in the same bed when he asked if she wanted to get ready for bed first. But it was getting difficult to keep himself in check – not showing her how much he loved her and wanted her. Compared to that, having cops around him all through the coming week would be a piece of cake.

Xxx

Shea hugged her, saying: "Oh, I know what you're going through, and I'm so sorry you have to stay here longer than necessary."

Abby smiled weakly at her. "I understand, don't think about it. I'd do the same if I was in your position."

Shea's whisper of "thanks" was tremulous, and she turned to hug Henry too. He embraced her, politely asking how Madison was doing.

The people participating in the reconstructions were filing into one of the largest rooms at the Candlewick for a quick brief before they started.

"Hey, Henry! I saw you on TV!" A dark, pretty girl waved at them, looking much too cheerful for the situation.

"Who's that?" Shea frowned, clearly thinking this was inappropriate behavior. Abby completely agreed, but glanced at the girl – the was something familiar about her, but she couldn't place her.

"That's Stacy - Sully hired her to strip in my bachelor party." Henry looked slightly uncomfortable by saying this.

"A stripper! At your bachelor party? I've never thought you would approve of something like that, Henry. Did Trish know?!" Shea's eyebrows were almost meeting her hairline, and she looked thoroughly disgusted.

"Yeah, we aaah, kind of expected it, it was Sully after all who arranged... But I really didn't like.. I mean, I knew her when she was a kid! She is the younger sister of one my childhood friends, and it felt wrong to watch her doing that, like watching...", Henry defended himself, looking sheepish.

Abby sniggered to herself. Shea's moral standard meeting Sully's idea of a good bachelor party? _Oh, that sure clashed! _She winked at Henry behind Shea's back, causing him to blush furiously. She had to bite her lips not to laugh at loud, as Shea continued: "You should be ashamed of yourself, Henry! This is aligned to cheating in my opinion, and it's a filthy exploitation of women besides!"

Henry was stuttering a reply, avoiding to look at her, and still crimson red. _Haha, she would have to leave, or else she would burst into laughter for real at his moral predicament. _

Xxx

_It took so long – going through every little detail they knew about Uncle Marty. She felt bad for Henry, he looked so sad, talking about his uncle. She realized, he didn't have any living relatives left. Neither did she, for that matter. _By that thought her loss crashed home, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes again.

Xxx

Waking up, something was off. It wasn't just that her cheeks were dry and sore after all the crying from last night, but - _he was spooning her, and his left hand was clutching her breast! _She had to stifle a laugh, knowing that he'd be embarrassed to no end if he woke in this position. Speaking of position – she could feel at her back that he'd be somewhat more embarrassed by other things too. _She 'd better get out of bed before he woke. This had happened before when they'd crashed in the same bed in college – she couldn't blame him, because she knew it was purely accidental, but he'd feel bad about it, __she just knew it. _Shaking her head, she wriggled herself out of his embrace. She had to get ready for another day of going through all the dreadful details.

Xxx

Henry briefly wondered where the sheriff had found the body that was in his Dad's fake grave, but he supposed it was probably one of the unfortunate victims from the last rampage. They were telling the police about the gravedigging, and later they would go to Uncle Marty's tree. He had adopted his father's way of naming places after victims. So consequently, to Henry, several places on Harper's Island had new names now.

Abby was still pale after yesterday, she'd been crying all night, looking lost and forlorn. His presence didn't help, and for the first time he had felt unsure and powerless. Henry had to admit to himself, he had not foreseen the strength of her grief. He was worried, and feeling a strong need to relieve himself of the tension. _That crew member on the boat – maybe he should take him down? _Working on the docks and on boats were dangerous, the death rate was pretty high, a death wouldn't be too surprising._ Yeah, he'd try to get to him. _After all, keeping himself calm would make it better for Abby. Right now, he felt like he was on the edge of losing his self control, and control was everything. _It was just so damned difficult!_

Xxx

She had spent the rest of the day curled up on the couch, trying and failing to relax. It was raining - just like any other October day on Harper's, she thought, and she saw absolutely no reason to go outside – her dread stalling her from going to her father's house to start picking through his things. She had just shook her head when Henry wanted to go fishing – fishing! _Why wasn't she surprised at all?_

He'd made dinner – freshly caught, fried trout, so she told him she would clean the dishes before putting it in the dishwasher. Standing by the sink, she rolled her shoulders, stretching her neck to get rid of some of the tension.

"Does your neck hurt?" he asked, standing right behind her.

She jumped in shock, laughing a little, saying: "Sorry, I'm squeamish – yeah, my neck's a little tense."

He said nothing, but started massaging her shoulders.

"Mmm, that's good", she murmured, relaxing into his hands.

He worked his way inward, lifting up her hair to get to her neck.

"That's even better, you're so good, you should make a career of this", she sighed happily, enjoying the massage.

She felt him move closer to her, before he leaned in and kissed slowly her on the neck. She gasped by the unexpected sensation. _Kissing? What was he doing? _His mouth made her tingle all over, and for a long moment she was in shock, saying nothing. He continued massaging her shoulders and the upper part of her arms, while his lips and tongue continued tickling her. Shivers raced up her spine as she found her voice again.

"Aaah, Henry? What are you doing?" she managed to say nervously, trying to move away from him. His grip on her shoulders tightened, and he turned her around, pressing his body into hers.

"I don't think this is a good idea, this is not what ..." she tried to say, but he didn't pay attention. Instead he lifted her up, seating her on the sink and positioning himself between her legs. Pulling her hair to the right, he kissed the left side of her throat passionately, and she felt herself make a small, surprised moan. Goosebumps broke out on her arms, and her breath grew heavier. _No! This was..._

"No, Henry... stop it, this is wrong!" She shoved him in the chest, pushing him off her.

They stared at each other, and she was shocked to see the strength of the desire in his eyes.

"Why?" he demanded. "Why is it wrong? I want it, you want it – I could feel it!" He was panting, still holding her arms.

"Because we're friends, Henry! I don't want us to risk that for a rebound fling!"

"Rebound? Rebound?! Is that what you think this is?" He looked so hurt and angry at the same time, she almost felt like hugging him and telling him she was sorry. But that clearly wouldn't be a good idea.

"Yeah, rebound. Like in bound to make trouble! I don't want that, I want us to be friends forever!"

He let out a groan of frustration, slamming his fist down on the counter before leaving, banging the door behind him.

She stared after him, wondering whatever had possessed him to kiss her in the first place. _The loneliness and missing Trish - it had to be that. His temper she already knew. Him being angry when he didn't get his way was just normal Henry behavior. _

Xxx

_Damn! He was so stupid! _This was way to early, but he had lost control. _However could he explain this to her?_ Safe to say, she wouldn't spend the night in his bed after all - at least not tonight.

_Risking everything like that! _He smashed his fists into a tree trunk, trying to relieve himself of the aggression building up inside. Of course it didn't work – it never did unless he could hurt someone for real – but at least the pain in his hands took the edge of his anger. But he calmed down - _slightly_ - when he thought of her reaction. She had enjoyed it, he was sure.

Xxx

The explanations and the apologies were more than awkward, and they were both quiet and restless for the rest of the evening, watching TV without talking. She went to bed early, leaving him alone downstairs. And of course she didn't go to his room - she really didn't know what to make of his actions. But she couldn't sleep at all. The waking dreams were back in full strength.

Xxx

"Did you and Henry have a fight?" Shea asked, looking curious. "I mean, you're barely speaking to each other today!"

"Sort of", she replied, not wanting to tell Shea about what happened. "It's no big deal, really, just a little...awkward."

"He has quite a temper, Trish.." - Shea's voice caught a little in her throat - "Trish used to say she spent almost as much time coaxing him out of bad moods as the time she used on shopping, and that's saying something." Her smile was a little wavering, but still it was a smile. That was the first smile from her Abby had seen in a long time.

"Really? She coddled him like that? That's like her trying to make up to him! He has admittedly a bad temper, but I've always let him come to his senses by himself, not bothering to try to cheer him up. He always comes around when he's ready", she said. "Trish must have had infinite patience with him!"

Shea laughed a little, as tears welled up in her eyes: "Yes, she had. She really was too patient with him – but then again, so was he with her. And you don't live with him. That makes a difference! This – Abby, I can't take it, I can't believe she's gone!" And her laughter turned to sobs.

As she hugged Shea, Abby thought to herself: _But I do live with him, at least in a way right now. And I would never let his temper control me like that – even if he really was my lover. S_he shivered a little, the thought hitting a little too close to the reason behind their disagreement.

Xxx

Yesterday had been one of the worst days of his life. Abby avoiding him, speaking as little as she could, and clearly being insecure. He just wanted to reassure her, telling her that he'd never do anything she didn't want to, but that was out of the question for the moment. She'd freak out if he confessed his love for her right now. _What had he done? Well, he had at least something planned for cheering himself up. _

They had today's lunch break in town. As luck would have it, he spotted his selected victim - the rude guy from the boat – very close to the boathouse where he had set everything up yesterday. Sneaking up behind the man in an alley between some sheds at the docks, he gripped his throat hard, dragging him backwards inside the boathouse. Being strangled from behind, the man's feet drummed on the concrete floor of the empty building. Henry savored the sight of his eyes bulging in panic, but he went limp quicker than he had hoped for.

Letting up his grip before the man died, he gagged him expertly and tied his arms to his legs. Stuffing him in a large barrel, he waited until the man woke up again. He had filled the bottom of the barrel with heavy stones yesterday, so he had to squash his victim to make him fit inside. Having done his research, he knew the man wouldn't be missed by his fellow crew members for a few days. The guy had turned out to be disliked by most and besides he was a loner living in a shack into the woods. _Sometimes, even a killer had to get lucky_, he thought, _finding a victim no one would miss. _

_This is the beautiful part of being a homicidal maniac_, he thought smiling to himself, as he enjoyed the mans muffled screams and the fear in his eyes for a few moments. He always wondered if his victims were surprised when they were killed off by such a seemingly, nice young man as him - _they probably expected a killer to look something more alike his Dad_. Having satisfied his need for invoking fear, he nailed the lid shut, and turning the barrel over, he rolled it into the water by a trap door in the floor.

The barrel sank into the water – it was deep here, he knew that – and soon only a few bubbles were visible. Leaving, he felt thoroughly satisfied and relaxed - shaking off the tension like it was droplets of water. _Strangling was simply great - no mess to clean up afterwards. Maybe he should do it more often? But then again, he really loved his trusted knife. _

Coming back to where they had lunch, he couldn't help himself and beamed at Abby. _She was so lovely, sitting there at lunch looking all serious and talking to Shea. _

Xxx

She saw Henry grinning exuberantly at her. He looked sincerely happy, and she couldn't help but smile back – his grin was infectious.

"The storm's over? Friends again, just like that? He sure seems happy at the moment" Shea remarked, taking a look at Abby's own grin.

"For now," she answered. _At least the awkwardness would be over. _Leaning towards Shea, she whispered conspiratorially as Henry was approaching: "I bet he went fishing on his lunch break. Nothing can lift his spirits like that."

Xxx

At three am, she hadn't closed an eye. Dreading the next day which they would spend at the marina, she had flashbacks of JD and the horrifying sight of the docks blowing up. Seeing it over and over in her head, she also thought of Henry. He was probably being just as scared for the upcoming day - JD and everything. Sighing to herself, she got up from bed and entered his room, creeping under the covers. She did feel a little awkward when he pulled her to him, but the good thing about Henry, she thought, was that he knew when to shut up and not ask questions. Nestling into his arms she fell safe asleep.

Xxx

Waking up by the sound of the door, she could feel him watching her.

"This will be the worst day of the reconstructions for me", he said, "so I wanted the best breakfast first."

Blinking at this incongruous statement, she saw he was holding a tray.

"Breakfast in bed?" she asked.

"Yeah. Coffee, croissants, fruit. In bed."

She had to laugh: "That's your favorite breakfast? Not cereals, eggs, pancakes..?"

"Yep", he said, "I like this. In bed, that is."

"When you're not having breakfast in bed? What do you like then?"

"Anything. But this is special. Hungry?"

"Mmm, definitively. Did you know this is my favorite food for breakfast too?"

He lifted his eyebrows, making a blatantly fake, innocent look of surprise, before laughing to her and saying: "I might have noticed, once or twice."

_Hot croissants and coffee – nothing was better than that_, she thought. _The only thing she needed now, was..._

"Chocolate to go with the coffee?" he asked, pulling out a bar of dark chocolate.

Her mouth being full of coffee, she could only widen her eyes at him, nodding happily. Swallowing, she answered: "You sure know how to spoil me! That's exactly what would make this into my dream breakfast."

He grinned at her, looking a little proud, before breaking up the chocolate into pieces – making sure that she got the biggest part of it.

After finishing their breakfast, she asked in a slightly wheedling voice: "You know, I'd love to take a bath."

"Does this mean you want to use the giant tub in my bathroom, instead of the shower that belongs with your bedroom?"

"Yeah. That's right – if it's OK with you?"

"Anything you want! Go ahead."

Relaxing in the tub, she decided that it was big enough for her to swim at least three strokes ahead. Wondering vaguely where he got enough money to buy such an amazing house, she realized that she knew very little about the finances of his company. Maybe he did well?

_Damn! She'd forgot to bring towels. She'd have to call him – at least she could still decently cover herself by the remaining bubbles. _

"Henry? Henry?"

"Yeah?" His voice came muffled from the other bathroom.

"I forgot towels. Would you mind getting me some?"

"Of course. I'll be right there." She heard him rummaging through a closet, slamming the door, before stopping outside the door. "Can I come in, or..?" he called, sounding a little insecure.

"Come in!" she said, making sure that the bubbles were in place.

Henry entered a little cautiously, trying to avoid looking at her. Instead she stared at him, as he was only wearing a towel around his waist himself. His hair was wet – he must have come straight from the shower.

"Can you place them somewhere I can reach them?" she asked a little intimidated by the fact that they were both almost naked.

"OK, here?" As he left the towels by the side of the tub, she could see that he glanced down at her – almost involuntary, she thought. He backed away from the tub, his eyes lingering a short while on her before he left. As the door closed, she slowly exhaled, only now realizing that she'd been holding her breath. And she didn't really know why.


	7. There are times when I could hurt you

_**There are times, I could come to you and hurt you**_

«I hate this!» he whispered to her, clutching her hand. She turned around, seeing tears in his eyes as he stared at the place where JD was killed.

«JD's wharf. I, I hoped I'd never see this place again, ever!»

She had no response at all for this, just stroking his arms, feeling like crying herself. _Oh, JD – so much pain in life, and such an awful death. And... _

«Did you hear what he said to me, before he died?» she asked, looking down.

«Yeah. Don't think about it, Abby, don't blame yourself! Even if.. it somehow, if...Wakefield... thought – it was never your fault. You're not the one who **did** this.»

She sighed raggedly, hugging him, before saying «Thanks, I needed to hear that.» Lifting her face to him, she met his eyes, and she could see his grief plainly, and... something else. She could only describe it as a need, a longing. _Oh, poor Henry, missing JD like that! _Closing her eyes to his grief, she could feel him stroking her hair softly.

«The scene is yours, Henry. Tell us where and what happened,» Detective Anderson said. With warmth in her voice, she added: «Just take your time. We all understand that this is difficult for you.»

Henry straightened, squaring his shoulder with a pained expression.

«I was on my way to the docks to try to stop Sully, Cal, Chloe and Beth from leaving. Madison was still gone, and we... we feared for her life as we had been told that she'd die if anyone left. I was running, coming from the Candlewick - out from the woods approximately here», he pointed.

«Go on, where did you see JD?»

«I didn't see him at first, I heard a kind of noise – like scuffling. Then I saw JD running, and someone else right behind him. I can't say who though, it was too dark. So I followed, but I was far behind. But then....» his voice broke, and Henry hid his face in his hands.

Abby took a step forward, patting his back slowly, and he spun around, embracing her and hiding his face in her hair. She could feel his body shake, and she tried to comfort him, mumbling: «It'll be alright, Henry, it's over, there's nothing we can do anymore, in time it'll be better, Henry...». She rubbed his back soothingly, and at last he let go of her, turning around looking decidedly shamefaced.

Anderson stepped forward, saying: «It's alright, don't think about it, we know that this is hard,» smiling encouragingly.

Xxx

He gathered himself, continuing: «I stumbled over JD. He was right here, on the ground, bleeding from his stomach and..he had blood around his mouth. I knelt, touching him, and thought he was dead. Then JD opened his eyes, pointing in this direction, and whispered "That way".

Taking a ragged breath, he said faintly with downcast eyes: «And I just left – I couldn't take it, seeing him like that, I ran off in the direction he pointed. I..I didn't see anyone.» _He was so overwhelmed by his grief for JD, he had never meant to kill him, but he supposed he made a truly convincing show. Crying like that in front of Abby, it kind of hurt his male pride... She didn't seem to mind it, though. _

«And then you met Abby?»

«Yeah, I thought he was dead, I dreaded going back, so...so I didn't hurry! I... And he was my brother, and I...stalled returning. I should have stayed with him. Maybe I could have helped....» His voice was full of regret and grief, and it was the plain truth – he hated the fact that his brother had had to die. But it had been necessary.

«No, Henry, we've been over this», Anderson said gently, «The coroner said that the one who stabbed him, did a thorough job. You couldn't have saved him.»

«I could have been there, comforting him! And when I came back, Abby was there, and JD... died.»

«Abby, will you tell us what you experienced..?»

Abby sighed, and started her story. He sat down on the wharf, staring down into the water, head in his hands. _Done. Finally – this was the one thing he had been worried about, fearing that he'd slip up by sheer sorrow. The rest was all lies, and therefore easy. This – JD – had been real emotions too, and much more difficult to control. As he «hadn't» been present when Trish died – they all thought it was Wakefield – there would be no need to go through that again. _

Xxx

The weekend had been great, he thought. Except for Saturday, of course, having the funeral for Abby's Dad. But then again, she'd cried a lot, and he could hold her close and comfort her as much as he wanted. In the evening, they just rested on the couch, and she was tightly ensconced in his arms until bedtime.

Sunday morning, she had said to him: «I can't do it right now. I.. I have to do it later on.»

«Do what?»

«You know, start... with Dad's house, going through stuff, clean up... everything that belonged to Dad and Mom. I can't do it now, Henry, I had planned to do it today, but... No, I can't!»

And to him it was another chance to hold her, to kiss her hair, to be close to her. _This was...addictive. He could never stop, he could never go back to NOT having her this close all the time. Never. _

Xxx

«I can stay here until Tuesday» Shea said Monday morning, «Madison wanted to stay with a friend tonight. I don't want to deny her that, she deserves a little fun these days. So we can keep on somewhat longer today, I've informed Anderson.»

«Oh, that's...good», Abby said. «Where will you be staying?»

«Candlewick. The room next to Anderson. She promised to hold my hand if I'm scared in the night», Shea laughed a little self-deprecatingly.

«Why don't you come over to our place for dinner? Henry will cook something amazing as usual, I'm sure.»

Shea stared at Abby. «Your place? You mean... Henry's house?»

«Yeah – his place, I mean... I'm staying there too, you know...» Abby said, a little flustered.

«Well, of course, I'll be delighted.», Shea answered politely.

Xxx

«So, which room is yours? Are you that tidy, Abby? I'm impressed, it looks like no one has ever lived in this room. How do you do that?» Shea looked admiringly at her.

She felt a faint blush creep up over her face, and she avoided Henry's eyes before answering:«I... just like to keep everything nice and clean.» If Shea had known her better – God forbid seen her apartment – she'd have no trouble spotting the lie. But there was no way she could tell Shea that she didn't sleep alone. Abby was absolutely sure that Shea would not understand. At all! She prayed that she hadn't messed up Henry's room too badly – her anxiety conjuring up underwear spread haphazardly all over the big, fourposter bed.

As they moved across the hall to Henry's room, she tried to interrupt the tour, saying: «I'm hungry, why don't we go downstairs and start dinner? Bedrooms aren't that exciting, are they?»

«No, I'd love to see the whole house", Shea said to Henry, «to see how you planned this for you..and Trish.»

In his bedroom, Abby could see her open suitcase by the bedside. _Thank God, she hadn't left anything...incriminating in the rest of the room! _

«This got to be your suitcase, Abby. Why is it here?» , Shea inquired a little sharply.

«Aaah, I borrowed his bathroom this morning! He's got the biggest tub in the world, I can swim in there!» Abby answered brightly, happy that she had a good answer for this one. Behind Shea's back, she could see Henry shake his at her, smiling knowingly. Her cheeks colored furiously, realizing that he thought her lying about their living arrangement was funny.

Xxx

At dinner, Shea told them that one of the crew members on the boat she used was missing.

«And as you can imagine, everyone became a little upset. People disappearing at Harper's these days is something one notices.»

_Oh well! Would they investigate? He was quite sure he hadn't left any tracks, but still... _

«But then the captain said that this was the most untrustworthy deckhand he'd ever had, and that he probably had gone hunting or fishing or something. He wasn't willing to report him, as this guy had disappeared and reappeared any number of times.»

_He was relieved – it wouldn't look good in the eyes of the world if more people died at Harper's. He had to keep all future killings on the mainland. It wasn't worth the risk. _

As the evening wore on, he became increasingly annoyed with Shea. Stealing Abby's attention all the time, just like she did in the daytime. Her whole, uptight personality irritated him as much as ever. _Hogging Abby like that, chattering about her creepy little brat. There would be no snuggling into Abby on the couch tonight. Damn Shea! _

Xxx

They were finally wrapping up the reconstructions. He was so relieved, thinking he'd done great throughout the whole week. Abby was exhausted, after two harrowing days of going through her father's and Jimmy's death – plus the rest. Personally, Henry had had so much fun showing everyone where Jimmy died and what an evil little bastard Sully was. He just loved it – Sully killing Jimmy had opened up so many possibilities for him. And his control over his facial expressions had been pitch perfect all the time – just the right mix of grief, disbelief and horror.

But Abby was tired, sitting slumped in a chair at the Candlewick. He massaged her shoulders gently, looking down at her head with a loving expression. _She was so beautiful, so strong even after weeks of emotional hell! _

«Will you stop that!» Shea's voice cut through the air. Henry gripped Abby's shoulders in shock, seeing Shea glare angrily at him.

«Just that», Shea spat, «can't you even wait until Trish has been buried? Try to show your dead bride a little respect before you find another woman! I've watched the two of you during the last week, and yeah, I've noticed a thing or two!»

Abby was staring dumbfounded at Shea, her mouth hanging open. Henry withdrew his hands from Abby, and said: «No, Shea, you misunderstand. It's not like that!» His voice shook a little, he could hear it, but he hoped Abby ascribed it to shock and not rage. _Damn! He wished he hadn__'__t let his father decide, his Dad had such a soft spot for the creepy, little kid. And that had meant sparing Shea too, to keep Madison happy. Damn, he should just have whacked her over the head far earlier. What kind of damage control would he have to do now? _

Xxx

Abby felt anger take over after the initial surprise, and shouted at Shea: «How can you say that! Henry is my only living friend in the world, and he loved Trish! Don't you dare to accuse him of forgetting her!»

Abby heard Henry take a deep breath, and he said shakily: «I, I'm sorry that you feel like that, Shea, but believe me, it isn't so. Abby and I are just friends. As you, we have both lost almost everyone we know, and what you see is nothing more than two friends trying to comfort one another.»

She felt tears spring to her eyes by the thought of their loss, and reached out her hand to pat him on the shoulder. Catching Shea looking furiously at her, she pulled her hand swiftly back.

«Is everything alright here?» one of the detectives asked, looking searchingly at all of them.

Shea swallowed, before saying: «Of course. Emotions just got the better of us – it's nothing.»

The officer was satisfied, turning away, but Shea wasn't – Abby could tell. Her glare was just as furious as before. Her words was just the Wellington way of protecting the family reputation.

Xxx

They were walking slowly back to the house from the Candlewick. He was so anxious, Abby was quiet, pale and avoiding meeting his eyes. _What was she thinking? After his slip up in the kitchen, there would be no wonder if she thought Shea had a point. Why, why, why had he done that? And Shea, having the nerve to ruin everything for him! _

He swore to himself: _I'll kill Shea at the first opportunity! Madison too – finishing the original plan. And if Abby left him, he'd certainly... But she couldn't leave him – to be without her now, it wouldn't be possible for him to live without her! _

Desperately, he took her hand, willing her to look at him. She twitched visibly, jumping in shock away from him. His gut clenched in fear, and it became almost painful to breathe. _No, she was going to leave him, she didn't want him! _

Trying to calm his racing heart, he thought through his possibilities. There was only one solution he could see. _He had to lock her up in the house. With him. It would be noticed when they both were missing from the Wellington funerals in two days, but apart from that they were as good as finished with any official business. He could pull it through, hiding her from the outside world. She'd be angry and hurt, feeling like he'd betrayed her, but this was the only way. He wouldn't tell her everything - needless to say – but he would keep her there until she realized they were meant to be. _

Arriving at the house, they went inside. He took a deep breath, locking the door behind them. Turning around, he was prepared for the questions and the anger that would come later. She stood in the middle of the kitchen, finally looking at him. Her eyes were like dark, bottomless pools, standing out as immense from her pale complexion.

«Henry,» she said. «There's something I've got to tell you. I, I don't know how to say this really, but I have to tell you,» she said slowly.

_God, here it comes, she'll tell me that she's leaving! _He steeled himself for what surely had to come.


	8. This can go so wrong

_**This can go so wrong**_

She stopped, because she didn't know how to continue. _How to tell him this? _But she had to go on, because his expression was so full of pain. _What did he think she was going to say? Surely not what she had on her mind. _Abby took a deep breath, steeling herself for making the most embarrassing statement of her life.

Xxx

After Shea had made her accusation – that she had an affair with Henry – her thoughts had been spinning. Initially, she'd been shocked by the assumption. _Henry loved Trish, and she loved Jimmy._ That's all there was to the situation. Then doubts had began to surface. She was so afraid to be alone, to face her complete and utter loneliness, and he offered her the safety that she needed. That incident in the kitchen – and why did it feel so natural, so right to sleep in his arms every night?

And superimposed on the Henry walking beside her in the woods, she saw an image of him as she'd seen him in the bathroom a few days ago - naked, except for a towel. _Naked, and definitively... sexy. _She swallowed, realizing that maybe, maybe she wasn't as opposed to the idea of being with him as she had thought previously. Perhaps this was only a natural step - them being so close, so intimately entwined in each others life now, and after all she had no one else but him in her life anymore.

Plagued by guilt – _what about Jimmy - _she walked beside Henry, almost burning with shame. Sick to her guts for thinking like this – merely weeks after meeting Jimmy again and no less after his horrible death. _Oh, how did she end up in this situation?To even consider sleeping with her best – and only – friend? _

Stealing a glance at Henry, she saw he was preoccupied by his own thoughts, a worried frown on his face. Though it pained her quite a bit to admit it, she managed to say it to herself: _She wanted him. _Just as she thought that, he grabbed her hand, and she jumped a mile high by the shock, feeling his touch as electrifying. She could see that her reaction hurt him, but there was no way she'd tell him that she wanted him outside in the woods, just like that.

Xxx

"You were right, earlier. And I was wrong", she said. He just stared at her, completely baffled.

"I was right? About what?"

"About... us. The other night, in the kitchen."

_Did she mean...? _He stood stock still, not daring to move. _If he misunderstood and_ _made the wrong move now, he'd be doomed in her eyes, he was sure. _

"You know, when you... and I said it was wrong, and you asked why. I don't know anymore, I was wrong."

He felt stirrings of hope inside. _She was actually saying that she didn't see any reason not to be with him? _Still he didn't say anything, just looked at her.

"Help me out here, Henry!" she said impatiently, "You know what I mean! I – I think, I..." she stopped again, and squared her shoulders before looking straight into his eyes. The word rushed out: "I want you!"

He could not believe it, but in two quick steps he was holding her, pressing her to him with all his strength, crushing her almost breathless. _He always thought he'd have to seduce her, not having her telling him straight out that she wanted him. _But then there was no more room for thinking, as he was kissing her fiercely – and she was kissing him back.

Xxx

The kiss was more passionate than she had expected, and she broke it off, gasping for breath while shivering with pleasure. She pulled his mouth to her again, stroking her hands through his hair. His hands cradled her butt, stroking her hips. Wanting more, she opened his shirt, and he shrugged out of it, and then she had contact with his bare skin. Kissing his neck, stroking his back, feeling him muscles move as he shifted his grip – she just couldn't be close enough to him.

"Abby, oh, Abby" he mumbled her name almost feverishly over and over, kissing her throat, even biting her a little. She leaned her head back, letting him move his mouth across her neck and down to her shoulders.

"Henry, it's so good," she sighed back, clinging to him, letting out a small moan.

Abruptly he shifted his grip on her, saying in a hoarse voice:" You want this, Abby, are you sure?"

She half-laughed at him, whispering "Yes, what do you think? I can't wait, Henry!".

His breath hitched, and he wasted no time in carrying her up the stairs, and to put her down on the bed. Clothes fell, being ripped off in the process, and she moaned his name loudly as he touched her skin. Then he was _there, _entering her, and she gasped – meeting his eyes.

"Don't hold back," she urged him, moving in time with him. As his thrusts became more powerful, her abdomen clenched around him, starting to spasm. She writhed underneath him, feeling him hard and moving fast inside of her. It felt as if she caught fire, and wave after wave shook her. In the midst of her orgasm, she heard him cry out her name, and looking up into his eyes, she felt like drowning as he poured out into her.

Xxx

He tried to regain his breath, still inside her. _This was more than amazing – in every respect. Here he had been ready to lock her up to convince her that being with him was a good idea, and she had already decided that she wanted him. Wasn't she just perfect? _

Smiling down at her, he said the only thing that came to mind: "Wow. I never thought it would be like this."

She laughed a little, breathless herself, and answered: "Agreed. This was unbelievable. In every way."

Feeling her belly still twitch with small aftershocks, he pulled himself out a little reluctantly. Moving over to the side, he enfolded her in his arms. _He still couldn't believe it – she was his now, and he'd make sure it was for forever. _

She gasped, smacking her brow with one hand, and instantly he was worried again.

"Henry, I'm so stupid! Do you know, I'm sorry, I'm not on the pill – this was completely unprotected!"

Blinking, he said: "Well, I didn't ask, did I? It's as much my fault as yours. Besides, you know, I'm not going anywhere, no matter what happens. We'll deal with it – if something happens."

She looked slightly relieved, before smiling a little. "I could always go to the pharmacist here on the island, asking for a morning-after pill. That'll be a great way to announce to everyone that we're having sex!"

He laughed. "Yeah, rumor will fly across the island in no time. But we're going back to the mainland tomorrow, aren't we?"

"I suppose that will be within the time limit. In the meantime – why not make the most of it? We can do it again, can't we?" Her grin was mischievous, and he felt a sharp sting of arousal again. _She wanted him again! He just loved her so much. _

Xxx

She watched him sleeping, a happy smile on his face. As for herself, she was more unsure. She wanted to be with him, but she couldn't figure out what it meant.

_Was she only afraid to be alone, now that she had no one else? Was the sex only an addition to the intimacy they experienced comforting each other? Was this the start of something more than friendship? _She just didn't know.

Maybe she would figure it out in time. She knew he'd never pressure her into anything – that was one advantage of having her best friend as her lover. _But could she rid herself of the overwhelming guilt she felt? Deserting Jimmy's memory like that, after such a short while... _A small voice in the back of her head told her she needed something else to think of than grief and guilt. _Maybe this was just an escape from the horrors, and nothing more? _

Xxx

On the boat back to Seattle, she worried about meeting Shea again at the Wellington funerals.

"Don't fret, Abby, it doesn't matter what she believes or thinks", he told her, smiling kindly at her. "We don't have to tell her, and really it's none of her business."

Still, she was scared. "What if she calls us out, telling everyone..?"

"Abby, stop. This is _Shea._ Of all the people we know, she's the least likely to play drama queen in her father's funeral! She's only going to frown at us. Nothing more! Trust me, Abby."

She calmed down, but only a little, grasping his hand. "Where are we going to stay in Seattle? In your apartment?"

Looking pensively at her, he shook his head. "No, it's full of **her **things. I... I don't even want to see the place again, I'll sell it. Buy myself someplace else."

"Oh. I can understand that. It must be... I can't imagine." she whispered, leaning her head on his arm.

"I booked us in a hotel. Two rooms."

Shocked, she drew her head up and stared at him. "What? Two rooms?"

He laughed at her outraged expression, and kissed her before saying: "Adjoining rooms. With a door between. Just for the sake of appearances."

"You had me there," she laughed, a little ashamed. "I wouldn't want to be without you."

At that, she could only describe his expression as adoring – like it was the best thing he'd heard in his life.

Xxx

Standing by JD's grave, he had his arm comfortably around her shoulder. He'd placed JD in the Dunn family grave, along with Uncle Marty and his adoptive parents. Looking at the stone, he wondered how many people who had committed a double patricide in the history of the world, the way he had: His real father, and the man he had thought to be his father while growing up. _Maybe it was a world record? Nah, this couldn't be the first time something like this had happened. _Still he felt a little proud, knowing that at least it was a rare feat. Squeezing Abby's arm, he put on his sad expression.

"Ready to leave?" she asked.

"Yeah," he sighed by way of response.

Xxx

Shea's attitude to them at the funeral was frosty, to say the least. But she didn't say anything, except glaring at them both – especially at Abby. Henry was in the front row with Shea and the remaining Wellingtons – not that there were so many of them left, she thought. She watched him all through the ceremony, and her heart bled for him, seeing him so downcast and serious-looking. But to her own horror, she also felt a slight twinge of jealousy, and she forced it down quickly.

Xxx

At the reception, Madison skipped over to them, with her usual, eerie smile: "Uncle Henry - though you won't be my uncle now, will you – I think you're touching Abby even more than you did with auntie Trish."

Abby swallowed, visibly unsettled by Madison. He felt his eyes narrow in dislike for the little girl, wishing that his Dad had killed her in the tunnels. Putting on a friendly smile, he said to her: «I like Abby. She's my friend, and she has been for as long as I can remember.»

«Yeah, but you don't look like friends!»

«Madison! Madison! Come over here», Shea's voice was strained, and she looked pointedly away from them. Madison thankfully obeyed, and he let out a sigh. _To think that such a small girl could be so creepy! _

He got worried when he saw Abby's face. She whispered to him: «Is it that obvious? To be found out by a nine year old?»,

"No, Shea set her up, you realize that, don't you?"

"She thinks I'm the culprit" she whispered to him, and he nodded. _Oh, he'd kill Shea for disturbing Abby like that! _

"That's probably easier for her to think that, than me... Well, never mind her, Abby! It doesn't matter. She can't hurt us."

_Still, he felt a tiny, nagging worry: Abby's feelings for him were so new, so fragile – could Shea's behavior destroy her budding emotions? He needed to remove her from Shea as soon as possible. _

Xxx

This time, even she thought it a good idea to go back to Harper's Island. She had to take care of her father's house, and they also needed to get away from the flare of media interest in the wake of the funerals.

"Henry! You don't have to do everything for me – I'm capable of getting my hands dirty too, you know!", she said exasperatedly as he once again took a cardboard box out of her hands. They were cleaning out the attic, and he insisted on carrying all the boxes downstairs for her.

"The boxes are heavy, and I'm almost done - there's only a few left. You don't have to wear yourself out by carrying heavy stuff, Abby. I'll take care of that!" She just shook her head at him, trying to no avail to get her box back.

Thankfully, the police had previously removed all the files on Wakefield from the attic, but there had still been lots of her mother's belongings up there.

"I'm not sure what all this is. You know, she liked to collect everything, so I guess the contents will range from newspaper clippings, old drawings, museum tickets and whatnot," she said, sighing a little.

«I can skim through it», he said, "and if I find anything interesting, I'll show it to you. OK?»

Xxx

She paused, looking at the boxes as he opened the first one.

"I wonder.." her voice faltered. Seeing tears in her eyes, he jumped up, embracing her.

Hiding her head into his chest, she clung to him, before continuing.

"I wonder, what would she think of...us, now?"

_He was sure she'd be appalled and disgusted. And even more horrified, if she knew he'd followed in his father's footsteps as a killer, and that he'd killed off everyone to get Abby completely to himself. But he was different than his Dad, he'd never abuse the woman he loved. But wasn't killing everyone she loved just that – abusive? There was probably nothing in the world that could hurt her more than what he'd done to her. But it had been necessary, and he'd never hurt her in any other way. _Shrugging the thoughts off, he said: "I guess we'll never know, Abby."

"Yeah, you're right. Still I'd like to know. But she really loved you. Dad did too – I think he'd be happy. What do you think your parents would've said?"

He smiled down to her, saying: "They'd be thrilled. They loved you, you know." _Heh, they'd be just as shocked as Sarah Mills. But they had cared a lot for Abby. _

"And... JD?"

"JD... He loved you, Abby, I think he would approve. You should know that, the two of you were just as close as JD and me."

"Mmm, yeah, I always considered JD like my brother. I think he'd like it."

That hit a little too close to home for his liking, and he had to ask: "Sooo, you never saw me like a...brother?"

"You?! No, Henry, that... If I did, I wouldn't be having sex with you! That would be just plain disgusting and freaky. Eeeew." Her mouth wrinkled at the corners.

He felt a little like laughing hysterically at her offended expression – after all, this wasn't something he liked to think of. In fact, he hated to think of it.

"No, I've always just seen you as Henry. You as a person – my friend, but never like a brother. I don't know why," she told him.

"Likewise. It's just you, Abby, just you as yourself."

As she was busy downstairs, he rifled through the boxes as fast as he could, desperately seeking for one specific item: His adoption papers. He supposed Sarah Mills would have kept some sort of proof, somewhere, and he was immensely relieved when he found it. Pocketing the papers, he was happy to go through the rest more slowly, picking out things that he thought Abby would like to keep.

"Hey Abby, look at this photograph, it's us! From when we were little. She wrote about us on the back!" He beamed at her, showing her the picture, before reading the text on the back to her:

_Abby playing with Henry, ages seven and nine. They are best friends, having so much fun together, and I love seeing that. I hope they'll always stay close – being together forever. _

"Oh. Oh, Henry, it's like – it's like a blessing! From my Mom! This means a lot to me, thank you for finding this." Her eyes became full of tears, but he kissed them all away.

Xxx

Later in the evening, he returned to the house, after another successful fishing trip. Seeing Abby, he was again struck by her beauty. She was sitting in the middle of the couch, pale as usual and dressed in a black, tight, knee-length dress, clutching something in her hands. _But she looked upset?_

"What's wrong?" he asked worriedly, dropping his catch to take her hands, kneeling in front of her.

"This. What's this, Henry? What have you been doing?"

_God no, Sarah Mills hadn't kept anything else, had she? She hadn't written down anything about him, had she? _


	9. To fear it's all taken away

_**To fear it's all taken away**_

_He was trembling inside – what had she found? _She looked hurt, scared and... betrayed. He could explain anything to her, except proof of them being siblings. Remembering how he had felt himself when he found out, he knew her reaction would be just as violent. Finding out that he was adopted wasn't even a patch on how he'd felt when he realized that she was his...sister. Occasionally, he felt sick still when thinking of it, but he had had years to come to terms with it. She wouldn't give herself the time, he just knew that. Desperately clutching her hand, he thought: _If she knew, then everything would be over, and he might as well kill both her and himself. It would be the end of all things anyway._

Xxx

Opening her hand, she showed him the key.

«You've got a hidden room full of weapons downstairs. Why? There's enough guns and knives down there to wage a war, Henry! Or» - her voice fell to a whisper – «to kill an entire island.»

His face fell, and she saw surprise flitter across his face, replacing his worried frown.

«Oh. That. You've been looking around in the basement?»

«Yeah, and I found it. I'm... I'm scared, Henry. Why would you keep so many weapons? And why hide it? Does this have anything to do with what happened here? Please, tell me – it's not that, you didn't have anything to do with that, Henry?» She could hear the pleading in her voice, and she hated it. Right now, she wanted to be strong, not begging. _Begging for him to be the one she could trust with her life. _

«Oh, Abby, how can you believe that? It was... I'm ashamed. It's for hunting, the room was meant to impress Trish's Dad. I have to admit, I overdid it. It's just too much.»

«Too much? Yeah, I'd say that! I've never even seen that many weapons in one place before! You could kill off all the animals on the island – and all the people too!»

«No,no, Abby, calm down – it's not that. Just for hunting – just a showroom. And it's hidden because of Trish. She wasn't any more partial to keeping weapons in the house than you are. Come, let's go downstairs – it's easier to explain when we're there!»

She followed him reluctantly, still scared by the amassed guns and knives. _But it was Henry – he couldn't harm anyone, could he? He had killed both Sully and Wakefield, but it was self-defense! No, he couldn't hurt her, not him. _

«I feel like Bluebeard's wife, finding the key and that room», she said nervously, walking down the stairs behind him.

He couldn't hide his smile, but thankfully she wasn't able to see his face. _A lot closer to the mark than she knew. He had killed his bride, hadn't he? But not Abby. Never. He wouldn't have to, he could explain this to her satisfaction. _

«So, hunting, Henry? I didn't know you did that.» Her voice was telling, she didn't like the thought of him hunting at all, he could hear it.

«I don't. Mr. Wellington did. I can...shoot, but I don't hunt much, you know that. This was just to impress him, like I said.»

She sighed a little with relief, saying: «No, I didn't think you did, I know you wouldn't hurt anything living. But this – this was just too much for me. Seeing all this... With all that happened here, and... God, that's one big, ugly knife! What would you use something like that for?»

He was so touched by her eager willingness to believe him, to trust him. At the same time, having her her down in his secret room with all his weapons – the symbol of him as a killer - was exciting. It was a safe way of combining the two things he loved: Abby, and murder. Moving towards her, he could see she shivered a little, and it only spurred him on. Leaning down, he caught her mouth, kissing her, whispering: «Whales. Maybe deers.» _Or people. _

Backing her up to his workbench – the very same where he had propped up the Reverend's body for dismembering a few weeks ago, before disposing of him in the water – his hands roamed her body possessively. She gasped a little, kissing him back passionately, and he pulled up her skirt, noticing with pleasure that she didn't have any panties on. _That had to be for him – she'd dressed up for him, earlier! _Seating her on the bench, he knelt between her legs, kissing the inside of her thighs and moving towards her center. _He loved to taste her – to feel her shiver with every little flick of his tongue and mouth. _She grabbed his hair, holding on to his head as if it was the one solid thing in a melting world. Bringing her to a shuddering climax, his reward was the way she moaned his name. _Nothing could turn him on more than her wanting him. He literally __ached for her! _

Xxx

He rose, giving her a quick flash of a smile, but she could see that it was urgent. He fumbled with the buttons on his jeans, and she pushed his shaking hands away, buttoning his pants down, feeling him strain against the fabric. Sighing, he entered her, closing his eyes. His whole body quivered a little, as he moved very slowly inside her, taking deep breaths to calm himself. _Oh, he was on the brink, holding back – to prolong it for her sake, she knew it. _Whispering his name, she knew he'd open his eyes, and that would be the end of his control. _At first when they started having sex, she'd been a little worried he was closing his eyes to imagine Trish – but she had soon realized that it was almost the other way around. He always opened his eyes as he came, looking at her as if he was amazed that she'd have him. _

«Henry!», she repeated, «look at me!»

As he opened his eyes, she was thrilled to see the effect. The intensity in his eyes drew her in, and she whimpered with pleasure as he rammed himself into her, moving with a desperate urgency. He shook with his release, gasping her name as he kissed her.

Leaning his head into her shoulder, he whispered: «I love you, Abby, I love you».

«Oh», she said lamely, knowing that it wasn't just a confirmation of his feelings – it was a question of her feelings too.

_No, she didn't know if she loved him like that. She only knew that she needed him in her future, much more that she'd ever needed him in her past. But she couldn't possibly lie to him. _And she could see the hurt in his eyes grow as she didn't respond.

Xxx

«This flat is great, Henry! Look at the view. It's so light and airy, spacious... I can already imagine - couch here, tables there, dinner table – and definitively bar stools at that high counter, and...» she stopped, realizing that it really wasn't her business to furnish and decorate his new flat in Seattle. He was smiling at her, though, looking happy.

«But that's just my ideas, you know. You'll probably want to do something different, you're the one who's going to live here,» she finished weakly.

His face grew dark, and he turned away, taking out a measuring tape.

«I have to see what I'll keep from the other apartment, what I can fit in here. Maybe I'll just buy new stuff,» he said as he measured up the space between the windows. She could tell he was upset – _but they hadn't talked about living together! _Wrapping her arms around his chest, she could feel his heart racing. _He was nervous? Even afraid? _He held her hard for a moment, before continuing his task.

Entering a smaller room beside the living room, she could picture herself writing in there. _Her desk, her shelves, her favorite chair for reading. _The windows went all down to the floor, and it would be lovely seeing all the city lights from above. A little dreamily, she called to him: «This is the perfect place to write! The view is such an inspiration, this has got to be the home office!»

He walked up to her, a hopeful look on his face. «What would you write in here?»

«I don't know, I haven't started on anything new since everything happened.» Barking a short laugh, she told him: «My publisher is all over me for writing a thriller. He tells me that it would make me rich, now. I don't know, it's not really my style.»

He smiled, saying: «I'm sure whatever you write, it'll be great!»

«Yeah, right!» she snorted. «All people want is gossip from the island. If I wrote a thriller, they'll only be speculating if this was something I experienced or not, they wouldn't care about the quality of my writing. If I wrote – let's say: Swinging from a tree, the killer cut down the body from the tree before she was dead and stabbed...»

«Wouldn't happen», he said a little preoccupied, as he smoothed the hair away from her face, «neck normally breaks at the impact as the body falls... What?» he broke off, seeing her stare at him.

She shook her head. «Sometimes, you scare me. Like with all those weapons. How do you know things like that? It's like there's a part of you I don't know at all.»

He was visibly shaken by her words, and tried to answer a couple of times before the words came out: «It's, it's just something I read. I, I – this was my way of coping with everything after the first rampage. You tried to forget, I read all about it. I had to.»

Xxx

She had insisted on helping him clean out the old apartment, but he really didn't want her help. It would only make her more unsure. What with all of Trish's belongings, and Shea would be there too with Madison! _And she was obviously far more undecided that he liked to think of. _

Shea and Madison were going to pick out anything they wanted as a memory. As he stuffed all his clothes into bags and suitcases, he kept glancing nervously into the kitchen where Abby and Shea were talking, packing up all Trish's silverware.

_But what were they saying? As he had feared, Abby had looked sad and insecure all day, and Shea was not helping. He guessed she had a new strategy. The previous one – all out attack and freezing stares – hadn't worked. Now she was friendly to Abby, but the cold glances she threw his way made him only sure of one thing: Shea was doing some serious backstabbing. _

«What are you going to do with all her clothes?» Madison was staring at him from the door.

«Um, I don't know. I'm not going to wear them. Would you like some of them?» he asked, trying to play the friendly uncle - or former uncle to be, as she had pointed out at the funeral.

«They're to big. When I'm big enough, they'll be old. I don't want that.»

«Not even for playing and dressing up?»

«No. I don't like it.»

«Well, I guess I'll have to give it away to a charity foundation.»

«You mean for beggars to wear them? Wow. Those beggars will be well dressed. No one will give them any money if they have so nice clothes. That's funny, maybe they'll starve!» She laughed, and he felt as usual uncomfortable by her presence. _No wonder his Dad had liked her – she was definitively spooky enough to impress a toughened serial killer. _

Xxx

He was restless and scared. These days, after they'd cleaned out his old flat, Abby was acting oddly, not looking him in the eyes, and talking very little. _Distant, that was the way she behaved. _He was terrified it was too much for her: Their relationship, the grief, Shea's behavior, the media, the guilt he knew she felt about Jimmy... _Damn, he hated that guy! It was a good thing he was already dead. _

When they were caught out by a photographer in the new apartment, he wasn't happy at all. The picture of him kissing her was plastered on front pages, and shown on TV. Speculations were rife again – what had really happened at Harper's? Some of the speculations were a little too close to the truth for comfort. And Shea had screamed at them both – repeating the absurd accusations that they **both** were in on the killings. _As if Abby could kill anyone? _

«It's her! Shea set this up!» he raged. «I know it! How else would that photographer even know where we stayed?» He was banging his fists in the wall – all the while thinking that he shouldn't be this angry in her presence. _But Shea – he'd kill her. It had to be like an accident, though he'd love to stab her, string her up – anything that would give her time to be scared. But he couldn't. It had to be inconspicuous. _

She just shrugged, sitting in the middle of the bed, clutching a pillow in her arms.

«Maybe she did. I don't know. If this is her, she didn't exactly protect the family reputation, did she?»

He tried to calm down – _for her sake – _saying: «And what do we do now?»

At that she answered: "Call Bill. The publicist – he's got to have some ideas."

_Strange, she seemed totally unfazed by his display of anger. But then, she'd always been, hadn't she? Not like Trish, at all. And that's part of why he loved her. She could manage his anger too, not only his love. He only needed to make sure she stayed with him. No matter what. _

Xxx

Bill wasn't happy at all, scowling at Abby. Henry felt his irritation with the man grow by the minute.

«Why would the two of you do something this stupid? It's quite possible one of the worst strategies you could have followed, losing a lot of sympathy in the public eye.»

«It wasn't exactly a strategy», Abby said, «it just happened».

Henry didn't say anything – after all, his strategy had been successful. _He had Abby, hadn't he? _

«You have to do another interview, both of you together, telling the public how you fell in love.»

«How we fell...in love?» she said, looking surprised.

Her surprise hurt him. _Didn't she love him at all?_ _Maybe she didn't – yet. But she would, he'd make her! She was his now, but not completely – yet. _

She threw up her hands: «Give me a minute alone – I've got to think about this», and like that, she left the room.

That left him and Bill staring at each other. Bill smiled a little nervously at him, obviously sensing his anger.

«I just... I don't understand why you did this. It's really very...unexpected. And I thought...»

Abby's words had felt like a bucket of ice down his back. _Was their relationship too new, too fragile to survive this? _Trying to block out the thoughts, he did his best to concentrate on Bill's words. Instead he lost himself in a phantasy of how to kill him. Smiling a little – "_Kill Bill" was one of his favorite movies_ – he saw himself cutting Bill up, starting with his hands, going on to hack off his arms by the elbow. Then his feet, legs and ...

As Henry rose from his chair, Bill looked scared.


	10. It's me who made you sad

_**It's me who made you sad**_

She was a horrible person. _A horrible, horrible person._ She was sure he'd hate her if he knew, and as he knew her better than anyone, he'd be able to tell quite easily if she let him close now. _Henry didn't deserve this – he deserved better. _Until she could overcome this ... thing, she had to try to keep a little distance. But that was hurting him too. _What to do? _Abby just didn't know.

Pacing the rooftop terrace outside his flat, she could see him inside through the windows. He was watching TV – CSI, it seemed. _Hmm, he was absurdly interested in things like that_, she thought. _Like now – to judge from his expression, he was thoroughly fascinated! _Abby suppressed a shiver, but simultaneously she smiled. _This was just one of his little quirks._ Even though she could in no way share his interest in all things morbid, it was OK with her, now that she knew why. The explanation he'd given her – that it had been his way of coping with the shock of the murders was sound. It was very far from her own reaction and way of thinking, but she could see why he did that. _It creeped her out a little, but the most important thing was that he was happy. _Which brought her back to her worries – right now, she was the one who made him unhappy. Sighing, she felt tears filling her eyes.

Xxx

He suspected she was having trouble sleeping again. She'd be sleeping deeply tonight, though, not waking up until morning from the drugs he'd given her. _Drugging the love of his life – it was despicable, and he felt ashamed. But it was necessary – she had to sleep all through the night, and later she wouldn't have to worry about Shea anymore. _This night, the last thing she'd remember was falling asleep in his arms, and that's where she'd be when she woke in the morning. Everything was set for a night of work for him.

Xxx

At Shea's house, he quickly turned off the surveillance systems. All the Wellington's had at one point bought the same surveillance system, so he literally knew Shea's system as well as his own. Stepping into the garage, he silently thanked Richard for his penchant for old cars. It was such an easy thing to adjust the steering system and brakes on an old car, compared to a new one. Shea's favorite was of course a classy, sleek and elegant Mercedes, dating back to the sixties. As an afterthought, he made sure the engine got a small leakage of gasoline.

Changing his now soiled rubber gloves for new ones – of course putting the used ones in his pocket – he entered the house. _Now for killing the main switch, _he thought, laughing silently at himself. Shea had told them while at Harper's that neither she or Madison could sleep without having both lights and the TV turned on. Shortly after he cut the power, he heard Madison calling for Shea.

«Mummy? Mummy? The lights went out! I'm scared, Mummy!»

«I'm right here, sweetie! I'll go and check, to see if I can get the power back on.»

«Mummy! I don't want to be here if it's dark. Mummy, can't we go someplace else?»

«Just a moment, honey...»

He heard Shea fumble around, but of course she couldn't get the power back on. _He wouldn't botch an important job like this. _Smiling, he listened to Madison – she was panicking, and from Shea's voice he could tell she was scared too. _All according to plan. _

Only minutes later, the two of them were heading out in the garage. At the sight of Madison clutching her teddy bear, he almost felt a little bad, but the worry on Shea's face was gratifying. _She deserved what was coming her way. _

Shea's favorite car rumbled to life in the garage, and he left the house just as silently as he had entered – of course first fixing the power back on when the car was out of sight.

Feeling happy and relieved at a job well done, he only regretted the fact that this time he wouldn't get to see his victims die. He could imagine it of course – the gas pedal jamming itself at full throttle, both the steering and the brakes failing, the panic and the screaming – and then, they'd hit something - _anything _- at full speed. Maybe the car would even explode, thanks to the small leakage? _Oh well, this was only daydreaming. _The important thing was that his original plan was finally being fulfilled, and Shea wouldn't bother Abby anymore.

Xxx

She woke up with her head resting on his chest as usual. Stretching, she felt slightly fuzzy in the head. She must have been dead tired last night, falling asleep and not waking at all through the night. Her movement woke Henry, and he smiled at her, before giving her the usual morning kiss on the forehead.

«Hey, are you awake? You've slept like a log all night!»

«Yeah, I was so tired», she yawned. Feeling a moment of worry, she asked: «I didn't snore, did I?»

«No, you never snore. You're a perfect, silent sleeper, don't worry!»

«Mmm. That's good.» Smiling back at him, she ached inside: _If you only knew! Then you wouldn't look at me with such love in your eyes. _

«I know something else that's good», he said, his eyes darkening with desire as he flipped her over on her back.

Xxx

As she was dressing after her shower, she turned on the TV to watch the news. Her pants fell out of her hands as she saw the headlines, and she yelled for him, desperately at the top of her lungs.

«Henry!!!»

He peeked his head out the bathroom. «What's wrong?»

Sobbing, she could only point at the TV, before crumpling on the bed. Even before she hit the mattress, he held her, and once again she clung to him as if he was her sole anchor to the world.

Xxx

He was so pleased, the car had actually exploded. Not only that, the car had hit a pillar on a bridge before exploding, and then fallen off the edge into the sea. This meant that forensic evidence would be difficult to obtain, but he had also been extremely careful – knowing that this HAD to look like an accident. _This was so perfect – the car crash was fantastic, just like in an action movie! _

But stroking Abby's hair, he felt sorry for her. She cried and cried, and he felt so sad by seeing her like this again that he had no problem at all to display grief himself. To cause her so much pain had all been an unfortunate, but necessary part of his plan. _From now on, he'd protect her from all harm. Always. _

He'd have to talk to Bill about postponing the new TV interview, as their situation had changed so dramatically. He was really happy that he had refrained from killing Bill the other day – instead he had just left the room. The man was a nuisance, but extremely useful. And sometimes, it was nice to prove to himself that he wasn't like his Dad. He might be an extremely competent serial killer, but he wasn't a nutcase. _Abby would keep him sane, _he thought, kissing her tears.

Xxx

She was still reeling after the deaths of Shea and Madison three weeks ago, but mostly she was feeling a little numb. _Maybe there was a limit to how much grief she could feel? _But she realized that Henry watched her constantly. He was obviously worried about her, and he pampered her even more than he usually did, and that was saying something. She sighed, knowing that he also had to wonder about her feelings for him. He had told her several times that he loved her now, but she hadn't responded. But she couldn't – it still felt like cheating. _Maybe it was time to tell him why she had been so distant since returning to Seattle? She didn't look forward to that at all. A coward, that's what she was. _

An opening came, as Bill related a question from a local paper, asking if she was planning to stay in Seattle. She answered noncommittally, seeing Henry shift on his chair, worry creasing his face.

Afterwards, back in the flat, she brought up the question again. She could see him freeze, as she asked: «What are we going to say – we live in different cities, what are we going to do about that? About us.»

He closed his eyes, and swallowed, saying a little desperately: «I, maybe, I thought I could relocate my company to LA.»

Her mouth fell open. «You would do that? For me?»

He smiled a little crookedly: «You have **no** **idea** of what I'd do to be with you.»

She shook her head. «No. No. That's... Think about your employees! And the costs?»

«It's just people, brains and computers. It won't be that hard to move.»

Stunned, she mulled it over in her head, before answering slowly with a smile.

«I.. I'll come to Seattle. I'm a writer. It doesn't matter where I live. I can write anywhere. I only know I want to be with you.»

«You'd do that for **me**?» This time, he was the one looking amazed. _No wonder, after the way she'd behaved the last few weeks. _

«Yeah. You still don't believe it, do you? That I want to be with you? Henry, I can't even sleep on my own!»

She could see tension leaving him, and he sighed as he put his arms around her.

_No, she didn't dare to tell him. Not yet. But she could make him happier still. _

Leaning her head against his chest, she reveled in the safety she always felt when he was around. _Safe and loved – like he'd protect her from everything. _

He said: «So you want to be with me? For real – live here with me?», his voice still full of wonder.

«Mmm, yeah.» She smiled up at him, saying: «I know you got any number of bad sides, and you sometimes do odd things that I can't even begin to comprehend, but I also know you'll protect me, make me laugh and just generally be perfect.» _Would he notice she didn't say she loved him? Oh, sure he did, but he also seemed to be genuinely happy by her words. For now, this would have to do. _

Xxx

Thankfully, she had convinced him to stay in Seattle for Valentine's day. Looking out from their living room on the nightscape of city lights, she thought of Christmas. She had been shocked when he had wanted to spend the holidays at Harper's Island – _of all places! _The ensuing quarrel had ended on a compromise: He got Christmas at Harper's, and she got New Year's Eve in Seattle. Her second condition was that he removed all those guns and knives from the basement. She'd only given in because she could see spending time on Harper's Island meant a lot to him. _But why he would want that was nothing but a mystery to her. _

And in the end, the weather had given him complete victory: A violent winter storm had made return to mainland impossible, and they had had to celebrate New Year on the island too. The holiday had been surprisingly peaceful and cozy, but she hadn't really ventured outside the house – not wanting to see anything else on the island. _He had been really happy, though, so in a way it had been worth it. _

Hearing the faint _pop, _she turned around, seeing him opening a champagne bottle.

«Oh, Henry, you shouldn't!»

«What? This is your favorite, and it's Valentine's!» He poured a glass, and she accepted it, somewhat disconcerted. He embraced her from behind, leaning his head on her shoulder. Watching as she barely nipped to the glass, he said:

«I thought you liked this one?»

«Um, I do, but... I have something to confess. Two things, actually. And I'm not sure you'll like them. I'm... not even sure you'll like me when you've heard the worst of it.»

«Come on, Abby!» he scoffed. «What could you possibly do to not make me love you? You're the most beautiful, smartest, kindest, toughest woman on this planet. You can't do anything wrong in my eyes!» He turned her around, trying to tilt her face up to him.

She resisted, not daring to look him in the eyes, and continued with downcast eyes: «No, I'll start with the worst part. I am a horrible person. You remember, when we came back to Seattle, cleaning out your and Trish's apartment? Do you remember me acting a little strange afterwards?»

«I noticed. What about it? It passed.»

«I was jealous. Of Trish. Big time.»

Lifting her eyes to his face, she could see he looked incredulous.

«Jealous? You? Of Trish? But she was dead!»

She winced. «I know! And that's what makes it so horrible. But seeing you in the flat, with all her things – I just, I felt so awful, I was scared that you'd think I was a mistake. I felt positively sick with jealousy. I wanted to smash up all her things – I'm – I'm sorry, Henry!»

«Abby – I would never think that being with you is a mistake. Never in a lifetime. There's absolutely no reason for you to feel jealous of Trish. Though I have to say I'm a little flattered.» He was smiling at her, and yes – she could tell that he was truly pleased.

Relieved and a more than little surprised, she said: «You're not mad? You don't think I'm a bad person?»

«No, you're not. You're... perfect. Just perfect.»

_Sometimes, he was definitively odd. She had thought he'd be angry and disgusted, and here he was, looking happy. Maybe he was happy because he realized that jealousy meant that she loved him? And that she had done so for a long time? _

«Ah, that reminds me of the other thing I have to tell you. I'm not perfect at all!»

He shot her an amused look, and told her: «You don't have any say in that. I rule that you're perfect!»

«No, Henry, this really isn't funny. I...» she stopped, anxiety clenching her guts again. _God, how would he react to this? _

«I can wait, I know you're perfect. Maybe you'll relax a little after we've finished the champagne?», he said teasingly.

Swallowing and taking a deep breath, she continued: «That's part of the point. I...I...shouldn't be drinking now.»

He stared at her, comprehension dawning slowly on his face.

«You mean...?»

«Yeah. I forgot the damned pills again. I'm pretty sure I shouldn't be drinking.»

Crushing her to him, kissing her, he exclaimed: «That's wonderful! It'll be alright, we'll manage, Abby. I love you!»

Feeling ashamed - she still hadn't said those words to him, knowing that her lack of response had puzzled and hurt him for months – she finally whispered back: «I love you too, Henry.»

«You do?» He was all amazement, before grinning at her. «That was about time – I had almost given up hope!»

Shamefacedly, she mumbled: «I've loved you for a long time. I just didn't dare to say it, the jealousy and all. It felt so... I'm a coward, and you know it.»

He laughed, saying: «Maybe you are at that. But you're mine, now? Mine only?» Hope and love were shining out of his eyes, and she felt flutters in her stomach – _what had she done to deserve such a love as his? _

Squaring her shoulders, she finally chased off all the ghosts from their past, and said: «Yes, yours. Only yours.»

Xxx

_I'm a sucker for happy endings. :) _

_But wait – there'll be an epilogue too! And I'll tell one thing in advance: In the epilogue, Henry WILL be dead. _

_Haha – couldn't resist saying that... _


	11. A fairytale longer than anyone will read

_**Epilogue: A fairytale longer than anyone will read**_

Her joints were creaking, and she felt every day of her 85 years of life pressing down on her. Huddling close to the fireplace, she tried to find some comfort from the warmth it gave off. _He'd been there all her life, and now he was gone. Forever. _She couldn't believe it, and she felt like laying down to die herself. Her rock in life, the glue who'd kept all the little pieces together that made up Abby Mills Dunn was no more. Tears blurred her vision, and she tried to dry them off with a shaking hand.

Xxx

They'd been walking on the beach, below the cliff where their house on the island stood. It had been a crisp, clear September morning, full of the promise of warmth later in the day. Holding hands, they had steadied each other a little on the rough, uneven ground. She remembered thinking that they were lucky to have one another at such a great age, being relatively healthy and strong. Earlier in the morning, after their usual cup of coffee by the kitchen table - time spent in quiet relaxation, reading the news with the occasional upwards glance and smile as one of them read out loud an interesting piece – he had gotten his test results for his blood pressure, and it was just fine.

And only half an hour later, on the beach, he had crumpled in a heap, clutching his chest. Before he died, he had whispered: «Abby, I love you!» As she responded, the brief look of joy he always showed when she expressed her love had for a moment supplanted the grimace of pain. And then, no more. Her daughter had found her on the beach hours later. She hadn't been able to leave his body alone, and so she had waited by his side, slowly feeling him grow colder. All the while she had talked to him, telling him that she'd be lost without him, no matter their two children and their grandchildren.

Xxx

But right now, she had to be strong for her granddaughter. Sarah was 25, and even though she was a grown woman, Abby didn't want to show her how lost she was, even two weeks after his funeral. _His funeral – it was unbearable to think of it!_ Drying off her tears once more, Abby was a little angry with herself. She believed that a grandmother should be strong, not showing her grandchild how grief-stricken she really was.

Sarah was here to help her go through his papers. Sweet Sarah, reminding her so much about him in so many ways. She had been his favorite grandchild, being their daughter's only child. Not that he didn't love the three boys their son had, but they were almost fifteen years older than Sarah. He had had so much more time to spend with Sarah after he retired, and they had a special bond. She remembered when Sarah was little, and...

«Oh my God! This can't be true! Granny, did you know?» Sarah's shocked gasp broke through her reverie. Seeing her granddaughter pale and frightened, she squinted at the papers Sarah held in a shaking hand. Her heart fell.

«Oh_. _**That**.»

«You knew? Granny – you knew? What – that makes us... all of us... we're inbred?!» Sarah's whisper was horrified, and it made Abby close her eyes, wishing she had thrown the damn boxes away without ever going through them.

«Gran! Answer me!»

Opening her eyes again, she sighed. «Sarah, this is a long story. And no, I didn't know for a long time. I've never seen proof before, I only suspected it. I can't really tell you when he found out, because I don't know.» _It was so like Henry, keeping everything in order – even the things that had potential to destroy their life. But this had been hidden in the attic, so he must have aimed to keep it from her, protecting her from anything painful as he always did. Oh, Henry – I really didn't need to see this now!_, she thought.

«But Granny! You knew – both of you? And it's illegal! I mean, who does this kind of things?»

«I can't tell you Sarah, like I said. I only suspected, he never told me. And when I came to suspect it, I made the choice that I didn't want to know. You have to realize, my life had already been destroyed two times before. To know something like that, and to have to lose him would shatter everything – I couldn't live with that. So I decided not to know.»

«How could you – how could _he_ – live with that?»

«Love, Sarah. We had been married 12 years and had three kids by the time I... had this suspicion. And he – like I said, I don't know. But if I must make a guess, he knew. And he...probably loved me long before he found out. This isn't something I'm comfortable with, Sarah, you must know that. There's a reason why I chose to not know.»

«But how did you find out? If you never saw any proof and he never told you?»

Sighing, Abby thought back, trying to tell Sarah what had happened.

Xxx

«As you know, your Mom and your uncle Charlie had a brother who died at an early age. Little JD, he was only four when he died. He was healthy until the last two weeks of his life. Falling ill quite suddenly, no one could find out what was wrong with him for more than a week. We only knew that it was very serious – fatal even. There were tests after tests, and one day they found out he had a rare, genetic disease. Untreatable.»

«I knew about the disease – but this was because you were half-siblings? Why didn't the doctor expose you?»

«The doctor never knew, he had no reason to suspect that. And there was no reason to test us – after all, we weren't planning any more children. But what happened was this.»

Xxx

«This illness is not common at all, it usually manifests when both parents are closely related and carries the same alleles. The two of you are not cousins or related in any other way, are you?», said the doctor in a kind, gentle voice, his eyes expressing sympathy for having to explain to them why their little son was about to die.

«No», she said, shaking her head to the doctor, «we're not related at all, not that we know of.»

And then she saw Henry's face. He was thunderstruck, looking both shocked, sorrowful and...guilty. Avoiding her eyes, he stared down at the table at his folded, shaking hands. _Guilty? Why would he feel guilty? And why so shocked by the doctor's question? _Feeling an ice-cold claw grip her stomach – as if she wasn't tense enough already – she thought: _No. It couldn't be. She had no relatives at all – except her mother's unknown son. Wakefield's child. She'd never gone looking for him, and she had always thought that whoever it was, he wouldn't be brazen enough to contact her. After all, his father had killed her mother. But no, it couldn't be Henry! No way. _Still staring at him, he finally met her eyes. Seeing the pure terror and guilt in his eyes, she knew.

She never remembered the rest of the appointment, but when they found themselves in the car outside the hospital, it was plain that Henry couldn't drive. He was clutching the wheel, staring straight ahead, with such a look of pain on his face.

«Move over,» she said kindly, «I'll drive.»

He got out the car, walking around it in a stiff, robot-like way, before getting into the passenger seat. Strangely, she found that she was able to concentrate on the driving, but she gave him a worried glance now and then. He still seemed completely lost to the world, obviously struggling with inner pain.

Inside the flat, she made coffee. She really wanted a whisky, but the children would come home from school, and there was no way she'd be drunk when they came home. That would never happen – except if she opened that bottle of scotch now. Coffee was the right thing, and it gave her something to do.

_Henry her half-brother. No, it couldn't be true, and how would he know? _Remembering with a pained shiver, she could easily picture Wakefield behind the bars at the Harper's Island jail. _Because I found him! _That's what he had said. Because he found him... That meant – if it was Henry – that he had known? Known that he was _Wakefield's son **and**_ _her brother _as Wakefield and Sully murdered all of their friends and family? _No, that couldn't be. Her Henry wouldn't be able to live with that. _On the other hand – the way he explained his love for thrillers, crime shows, forensics, biographies of famous killers, all those odd little quirks and interests as a result of the shock of the first Wakefield rampage – wouldn't that also cover him discovering he was the son of a serial killer? _What if... What if he had been involved in the murders? What if she'd been in love with and married to her brother, maybe even a serial killer, having three kids with him – no – soon it would be only two. What if this was true – then they obviously couldn't go on together. _As her breath caught in her throat by the thought of little JD, she shook herself. _No._ She had made up her mind.

Turning around, she saw him standing on the doorstep to the kitchen. His arms was hanging down by his side, and somehow to her, it made him look so sad, lost and defenseless. _And the pain in his eyes – she couldn't stand to see it._ She walked up to him – _the kitchen felt a mile long_ – and he followed her with his eyes. Leaning in to his chest, she wrapped her arms around him. He responded, almost convulsively, almost grabbing her.

They stood like that for a long time, clinging to each other. At last she looked up at him, seeing him stare at her with such desperation, love and longing in his eyes. _That look, she knew that. It had always been for her, then? Before they were together? _Taking a deep breath, she said: «Henry. I don't want to know.»

He didn't say anything, just kept looking at her.

«I don't want to know anything. I can't live without you. I can't. You're the only one I have, your're the love of my life. My life has been broken two times too many, and I won't survive losing you. Don't tell me whatever it is you've done.»

His voice was cracked and broken when he answered: «Whatever I did, I did for you. For us.»

«Ssssh,» she said. «I don't want to know. I love you, Henry, and I'll never leave you. Just don't tell me anything I can't live with.»

Xxx

Looking at her grandmother, still feeling shocked and horrified, Sarah could see her pain visible like a thick coat of paint on her face. _Poor, sweet Granny. She must have loved him to distraction, being able to close her eyes on such a discovery. _Sarah also found that she wasn't able to hurt her even more by expressing her disgust for the whole thing. So she only squeezed her wrinkled hand, and walked up to the fireplace. Taking a last look at the old adoption form, she threw it into the fire, watching it crackle and burn merrily. Turning around, she said to her grandmother: «I won't tell. Never. I'll keep the secret.» Her grandmother's face lit up, and she said: «Sarah, how can I thank you! To explain all this to the rest, it would have been horrible. Thank you for keeping it a secret. If you don' mind, I'd rather go back to not knowing, not thinking about it myself. It's...painful, and frankly very disturbing for me.»

Xxx

Later, Sarah was walking in the garden alone. The beautiful garden at Harper's Island, which her grandpa had tended so carefully. _Oh, grandpa, how many secrets did you really have? _This was by far the most shocking to her, and it also confirmed a strong suspicion of her's. _Her grandpa had been the killer at Harper's Island, she just knew it. And all for her grandmother. He must have wanted to make sure there was no one alive that knew the truth. That was so like him, _Sarah smiled to herself.

She'd always spent a lot of time with her grandparents, especially in the holidays. One of her earliest memories was going fishing with him. When he took the head of the first fish, she'd been so excited, squealing to get to kill the next fish. And of course he'd let her, laughing quietly at her excitement.

Later, he'd taught her how to aim properly, because he told her it would be better to kill the birds with one shot of her sling instead of torturing them. He told her she always had to finish the job if she hurt an animal, because it was wrong to leave someone in pain. And that she must never tell her grandmother that she had hurt an animal.

And there was the one time when she had woken up in the night, to find him downstairs washing blood of his hands. He'd calmly told her to go back to sleep, but she had been so fascinated with the all the blood, asking: «Why do you go hunting in the night, grandpa?»

«Because I like it, and because then your grandma won't notice. She doesn't like blood at all, you know. Don't tell her, or she'll be upset.»

«I won't. Only if you promise I can go with you next time!» At that he'd smiled at her, saying: «I will, when you're older.»

When she was nine, he'd interrupted her trying to hang her playmate John. At that, he had been shocked, quickly cutting the rope before any harm was done. He'd told her to wait for him, while he followed John back home, telling him that this was a little dangerous, but nothing to worry about. Sulking, she told him when he came back that they'd only been playing Wakefield. At that he had smiled, but he had tried his best to look serious. She could still remember his words clearly:

«Sarah, I understand it's fun playing Wakefield. But this was really dangerous, you could have killed John. For real. And killing people is serious business. Promise me that you'll never play games like that again – and you must never tell your grandma. She'll be shellshocked. And you really don't want her to be angry with you.»

As a teenager, she'd pestered him into learning her how to shoot, and to take her hunting. He would – for all the world – claim that he didn't like to hunt. She knew better, because she saw his grin and the look in his eyes when he pulled the trigger – not to mention if he had to use the knife to finish the kill. She could recognize that feeling in herself – a thrill of the chase, of winning, of being the survivor, the strongest.

When she was sixteen, she got drunk at a party for the first time. Coming home to her grandparent's house – not daring to go home to her parents – she knocked over a glass in the kitchen. Her grandfather had come downstairs to check, and taking in her state, he had proceeded to make her tea, eggs and bacon, telling her that what she needed now was solid food.

Watching him cooking, she had rambled on about the party and that her friend Jen had taken off with the boy they both were in love with.

«What did you do about that?» he said, looking questioningly at her.

«Honestly, I was going to kill them. But I couldn't find them, and then I got sick.»

«Killing them for real, or is it just an expression?» he asked casually.

«For real. I'm too tired now, but I'm really angry.» she said, meaning every word of it.

«I can understand your feelings, believe me, but that would be plain stupid. Killer's first rule: Never get caught. Killer's second rule: To fulfill rule one, never tell anyone. You just broke rule number two. That'll make you break rule one.»

«Oh», she's said, staring a little stupidly at him. He wasn't laughing, he was dead serious. Catching her look, he had ruffled her hair, saying: «I don't want to see you behind bars, Sarah. With a temper like yours, it's best to rein it in. I know it's difficult, but it's possible.»

When she was 21, he'd discovered a bloody knife hidden under her bed in the summer house at Harper's.

«What's this, Sarah!?» She had blanched, never having thought that her grandparents actually vacuumed under the beds too.

«A...knife?»

«With a lot of blood on! Haven't I told you how important it is to clean knives after use?»

«Yes, you have. I'm sorry grandpa, I was in such a hurry.» She hung her head in shame, all the while thinking that no one in the world except her grandpa would care more about her lack of cleanliness than finding a hidden, bloody knife in the first place.

«No excuse! You have to make the time for things like that. It's important.»

Lifting her head, she saw he looked searchingly at her. She nodded a little as an answer to the unspoken question, but she would keep rule number two this time. At that he smiled at her and said: «It runs in the family. You're so like me in some ways, Sarah. Just be careful.»

_Damn, she should have known – it runs in the family! He wasn't the first one. But he was the best – he was never caught. And he never told anyone, not even her grandmother. Grinning a little to herself, Sarah felt that she had some heritage to be proud of. And she hoped fervently that she'd be as happy as he was with her grandmother. It was just the small matter of getting rid of her beloved's chosen girlfriend first. _

_**The end**_

_**A/N: **This story ended up so much longer than I originally planned. I thought maybe three or four chapters, and ended up with a long story - almost a sequel with Sarah... _

_Thanks to everyone who've read it, and I want to dedicate this story to harper's island (that is, the fanfic writer) and Yellowbulma. Thanks for reviewing every single chapter! :D _

_This story is essentially a songfic. Because I'm way too lazy, I haven't stated it in each chapter, so I'll do it now. Every chapter title is from songs by the band Sunrise avenue, except the title Hero of Harper's (and that's just because it was such a funny title). _

_So: Titles from the song Diamonds are chaps 1,2 and 6. _

_Titles from the song It ain't the way are 3, 8 and 11._

_Chapter 5 is from the song Choose to be me. _

_Chapter 9 is from the song Romeo._

_Chapter 7 is from the song Forever Yours, and chapter 10 is from the song Fairytale gone bad. _

_Having finished this story, I can finally sit down to watch the final episode on the dvd. I'm going to bawl my eyes out. Then I'll think of fanfics and happy endings. :) _


End file.
